The Pursuit of Liberty
by Pandiichan
Summary: "What am I supposed to tell her? 'I used to be your dog, but I know I like you as a human?" Steve scratched at the back of his nicely combed hair in confusion. Talking to himself in the mirror wasn't helping. He didn't have the answers. On his wall sat a poster Tony gifted him. 'Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness' it read. It became clear then. Pursue her, his mind said.
1. Prologue: A Hairy Situation

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN:** Thanks for reading! Most of you are coming over from _Doctor Patient Confidentiality_, and for those of you that are, this is set eight months after that. To everyone else who hasn't read _Doctor Patient Confidentiality_: it's not necessary to read that. You'll just understand Cori better if you do.

I'll admit, I'm apprehensive about writing for Steve. He's wildly different than Bruce, and is largely a mega-gentleman. It'll be weird (this premise, itself, might be weird) but bear with me! The beginning might be slow, too.

* * *

Prologue: A Hairy Situation

_"This is Officer Schwartz. We've got a situation on the corner of Ann and Bayard! Repeat, we've got a situation on the corner of Ann and Bayard!_"

Pepper frowned as the latest episode of _Sesame Street_ was cut off. In exchange for Fury giving Tony and Bruce "indefinite suspension" to raise their children, he demanded that they stay sharp by aiding the local community. Complying meant that Stark Tower received wiring to decode radio frequencies and patch the local police through in times of need. This, apparently, was one of those times. Sorrel and Julienne whined, sad to see the colorful puppets disappear to accommodate a glowing, spiking line mimicking the caller's volume.

"Describe the situation." demanded Steve, absently picking up an abandoned shake toy as he moved towards the TV. Julienne reached out for the bee-shaped toy, babbling at him. Steve stooped to deliver the toy, grinning slightly at the chubby face topped by hopelessly messy dark brown hair with streaks of auburn. Stark had to be in some kind of agony knowing his son liked him, but Steve couldn't think about that right now. People needed the Avengers, and he'd somehow been identified as their leader by the press.

He assumed it was because of the shield and suit, which screamed leadership because it resembled the American flag. Certain words, like 'leadership' and 'power' were subconsciously related to the color scheme. Because the color scheme was affixed to him, made for no one else to where _but _him, Steve accepted the role of leader. With Bruce and Cori raising Emery, and Stark juggling a company and twins, Steve was happy to oblige.

_"It's the dognappers again. We have them caged in a warehouse, but they're returning heavy fire."_

"What kind of fire?" asked Steve. With his shield, he was fine. He asked for the benefit of the other officers. Vibranium could deflect anything – it could in World War II, anyways – and he didn't want to redirect a lethal force onto others. Muffled gunshots could be heard through the TV; he watched the green line rise slightly to account for the noise.

_"We're not sure. A small team stormed in, but they rushed out swollen and red."_

"Sounds like some kind of medical terrorism." noted Bruce as he gently untangled Emery's hand from his hair and fixed his crooked glasses.

"In bullet form, maybe. This is under the assumption that it was caused by bullets. They could've made a device that disrupts the body's natural circulation patterns to the point where intense swelling is instantaneous." pointed out Tony as he moved to stroke his beard, picking a piece of crusted baby food out as he did so. Sorrel didn't really like keeping her hands to herself. If he'd found baby food in his hair, then Julienne would've been to blame for the crusted food.

_"I don't know what it is!" a_dmitted Schwartz. _"I've called six ambulances. It's unsafe for my men to go in there. We need backup!"_

"I'm on my way." Steve cut the communication, moving to get his uniform from a nearby room. It was a bit difficult, with one baby walker to bypass, a jumping swing, and Pepper sitting in the middle of the floor, but he managed it.

"Let me go with you." Coriander stood, tucking a bottle of dissolvable baby food puffs between the couch cushions in case Emery wanted more. He seemed pretty entertained, playing with Bruce's hair. She smiled briefly at the two. "I can dismantle tech if they have it in the building." she reminded, tapping under her left eye with two left-hand fingers.

Emery whined, unhappy with the idea. He stumbled forward, clutching the collar of Bruce's purple shirt in a death grip as he wobbled to his father's left leg. Being a week shy of nine months old, Emery didn't have the ability to walk. Following his mother was quite the task, and he let out a short gurgle of disapproval. Bruce gave Cori an encouraging wave, trying to distract Emery by shaking the snack bottle.

The cherubic little face scrunched at the sight of the rattling thing. Cori took a few more steps towards Steve, realizing her window of opportunity. Bruce was finally paying her back for staying up with Emery two nights ago when the Hulk was needed to disconnect a collection of crashed cars in upper Manhattan. Coriander almost made it into the hall, Steve leading the way, until she stepped on a malleable orange block that squeaked. Emery took his toothless mouth off the canister to survey the area.

Despite the mess of lose curls threatening to obscure his vision, Emery could tell his mother wasn't on the couch. He squawked angrily, gumming the snack lid a bit harder. Emery turned a pale green within seconds. Steve could hear the plastic snack can crinkling against the tiny fists. "Stay here with him. I'll be fine." assured Steve, flashing Coriander a thankful smile before she peeled away to return to her son.

Content to see both of his parents, Emery quieted instantly. Emery crawled carefully over to Coriander and sat in her lap. Bruce busied himself by trying to de-warp the snack container. He and Coriander decided that one parent would be home with Emery at all times – when possible – because Bruce knew what it was like not to have parents around. The scientist in him was beginning to think Emery had Hulk's natural ability to tell when people were or were not present, as no eight month old could be _that_ aware, or experience distress for an extended amount of time like he tended to.

He was happiest with both parents around, though he smiled at everyone. Steve grinned slightly as he passed the couch, catching Emery's attention as well as Sorrel and Julienne's. Bright colors tended to do that. Especially the white. "Steve, are you sure I can't-?" began Cori.

"I'm sure." Steve cut her off. "Stay with Emery."

"But it's weird to send just _one _Avenger into battle. We're the Avenger_s_, not Aven_ger_!" she frowned. Coriander panicked when any one hero went solo, not just Steve. It was almost unnatural not to see the team together.

"I'm not just an Avenger," Steve teased, "I'm a captain, too."

Bruce chuckled, partly because of Steve, and partly because Emery tried to eat a fistful of Coriander's short hair. His bemused son found it impossible, and spent the next few minutes just watching her dark hair slip through his fingers. "Be careful, _captain_." Pepper instructed, freeing Julienne from the bouncing swing to set him on the ground with Sorrel. They immediately started for the small explosion of snacks Emery had unknowingly coaxed from the plastic container.

"Yes ma'am." Steve grinned brightly, unwavering under Pepper's light glare. She admired Steve's old-fashioned manners, but knew she'd told him not to call her that. Now that she had children, well…it made her feel old. He'd told her once that he called her 'ma'am' out of respect, and because of the fact she seemed to be the "mother" of the Avengers. Pepper kept the tower running, from the smallest of tasks to handling the groceries Thor needed to survive.

Though she liked the Avengers, Pepper didn't want to remember her job of looking after a top-secret group of people that liked to act like rowdy animals half the time. Clint, Thor, and Tony were usually to blame. Bruce and Steve were the buffer, but only somewhat effective against a Norse god, billionaire playboy, and expert marksman that could evade them like a bird. "Get going, soldier." She flashed him a lazy smile, a few freckles disappearing in the lines of her face. Steve gave her a small salute before heading out the door with his shield preparedly wrapped around his left arm.

"Buh-buh." whispered Julienne, testing out the word as he waved 'bye-bye' backwards, hand facing himself instead of outwards. Pepper giggled, chasing an unclaimed puff around with her finger. Julienne found the puff and managed to grab it before Sorrel. With a grunt of surprise, Sorrel sat on her bottom for a few minutes. There was no puff to chase after, and now she didn't know what to do.

Climbing across mom like a fallen log was fun and time consuming.

* * *

Steve was happy to find Ann and Bayard totally blocked off. That minimized the chance of civilians getting hurt in the crossfire. It also meant most of the men would go home to their families unscathed. The six ambulances Schwartz mentioned were nowhere to be seen; Steve could only assume they'd already removed the affected. Nine armed men stood defensively behind several police cars, guns firing through shattered windows. He held up his shield to deflect oncoming bullets, hoping the criminals could see his iconic weapon.

He hoped it made them run, too. If they did, they would likely drop their weapons and could be apprehended without incident. "What's the situation? I hear it's the dognappers again." Steve inquired of the closest officer, blue eyes taking in the loose border of police cars.

"It is." said the officer. "We've had confirmed sightings on the poodle from Queens, a mastiff from Yonkers, and a beagle from Harlem."

"How were the sightings made?"

"This warehouse is old. Outdated when you look at some of the others. Some neighborhood kids have been using it as their hideout. Took off running when they saw guys inside unloading noisy dogs and packing heat."

"Do we know how many are inside?"

"Six men. The number of dogs is unknown. Kids didn't get a good look."

"I'm going in." Steve decided. Holding his arm perpendicular to his body, he charged the warehouse. The wooden door gave easily, splitting open against his weight like a busting seam. Shots echoed in the medium-sized warehouse. His shield rumbled as it repelled the bullets.

Once his blue eyes could make out four of the six men, he threw his shield. Steve smirked happily, coolly, as his shield bounced off wood and metal. All four of the men fell to the ground. Some cursed the Avengers and some just moaned. Confident in his unusual genetics and returning shield, Steve advanced on the men curling in on themselves.

Each one had a different gun, he noticed. Steve kicked the nearest one away, not wanting to give the similarly dressed men a chance to retaliate. Every gun was small, but he could see several larger weapons at the back wall now that he was closer. The larger guns were generally bulbous with a narrow tip. _Heavy damage with a precise shot_, Steve thought. He grabbed the nearest man by the front of his black sweater, wondering if he was too concussed to talk.

The man he'd grabbed was bleeding, Steve could tell. Part of the mask was darker and wetter than the rest of his face. "Tell me about your operation!" commanded Steve. This hadn't been the first dognapping occurrence; it was the seventh in two months. He wasn't totally versed in modern crime, but knew this was a bizarre crime ring.

Show dogs were being stolen from their owners in all parts of New York, but were returned a few days later. Owners noted no real difference besides sluggish behavior and missing collars. Tony's initial theory of blackmailing the owners for money was debunked when the first batch was set free. Their safe return also shot down Bruce's theory of selling the dogs in the black market. It had the police scratching their heads, too.

This was their first real break in the cases. Steve was determined to get something for them. The man gurgled something unintelligible and Steve released him, reversing his crouch to analyze the area for the remaining two men. All gunfire had ceased, leaving him to wonder why. Had the other two made a run for it?

_Not likely_, he told himself as he crept around three of the cages to search for concealed pockets of space. The dogs were all suspiciously quiet, but breathing. He assumed they'd been drugged to keep from drawing more attention. Only two dogs had a collar on, which he found odd. It looked to be made out of leather, or some kind of black felt studded with little white gems.

Knowing it qualified as evidence, Steve used his shield to bust the cage's lock. He crouched down to weasel into the cage and remove it from the sleeping mastiff. Rogers grunted softly, unaware that the dog would be too much dead weight for one hand. After a few minutes of skittish checking for enemies and trial-and-error maneuvering, he'd found a way to hold onto his shield, free both hands, and put enough of his body into the cage to lift the dog and grab the collar. A biting pain set his right leg on fire, and Steve ripped himself out of the cage.

He ignored the fact that he cracked his head against the iron ceiling as he stood to face his attacker. It was one of the missing two men. In his hands was a longer gun, thinner than the ones he'd seen at the back. Steve growled at the man, slinging his shield out with a simple flex of his torso. The man was stunned, to say the least, since he'd been hit at such a close range.

Before his shield could come back, Steve felt three more pinches at his back. Clearly the last criminal was behind him. Glaring angrily, Steve rushed at him. Only the cowardly struck a man from behind. His plan was to punch the man in the jaw and send him flying right into the police's arms, but something was wrong.

Steve felt…woozy. Tired, like he'd trained all day without a break. He was close enough to brush the man's jaw with his knuckles, but found the action impossible. The man gave a laugh, planting his combat boot in his chest and kicking him over. "It was never about the dogs." revealed the man, "they're just our mules."

"Then what…what…what is this about?" demanded Steve slowly with his thickening tongue, rolling to his side. Something was wrong with his vision. His eyes traveled slowly from his arm, across the floor, and up to the man. The blue in his uniform was apparent, but he couldn't see the red.

"Liberty." chuckled the man, firing at Steve one last time. Steve could hear the gun click – much louder than before, which startled him – and tried to lift his shield defensively, but couldn't. It was too heavy. He was tired…_so tired_. Pain exploded in his upper chest; Steve unleashed a shallow hiss as he felt blindly for the object. A long needle led to a glass chamber half-full of white liquid.

He pulled an identical dart from his leg. Though his body moved slowly and heavily, Steve knew he needed to act fast. Something bad was in those darts and he still had three in his back. _I have to get out of my uniform!_ Steve threw one glove down and pulled off the other as he kicked a boot away. His fingers numbed as he tried to unbuckle the chinstrap of his helmet.

It was too complex to undo with his foggy mind and clumsy fingers. He peeled off his suit before trying to tackle it again. Feeling his high metabolism fight the drug gave him hope. The muscle spasms and twinges of pain told him his body was recovering. Captain pressed his helmeted face to the floor, letting his body rest as the dizziness and pain fought for dominance within him.

The pain was inconvenient, but nothing he couldn't bear after the Super Soldier serum. Once the pain evaporated and the dizziness subsided, Steve stood. "Oh fuck." mumbled the guy who'd shot and walked passed him without a care. Steve growled, proud to see him so startled. Fueled by a culmination of instinct and determinism, Steve chased after the man.

_Why do I feel low to the ground? Is it the distance? No…it couldn't be. Maybe my brain's still recovering._

The criminal unwittingly ran into the police cars sprinkled around the building. _Alright, we got him! Yes! _Steve cheered mentally, jumping up and down as the policeman wrestled the man into handcuffs.

"Bridges, watch out! Rogue dog!"

Steve yelped as the warning shot buried into the nearby concrete. He froze. The yelp hadn't come out human at all. Leaping towards the closest car, Steve stood on two legs to see the reflective window. _I'm a dog_! _I've been turned into a dog! _Steve wanted to scream, but a long yodeling howl came out instead.

_What do I do? What do I do? I HAVE A TAIL! _Steve quit pacing in circles once he noticed the slender thing above the area where his hind legs met his backside. It was long, ended in a tip, and was rigid with shock. Seeing his canine features explained a lot. He growled – _at least that came out right_, he thought – and wondered what to do. _Nothing to cause them panic, that's for sure_! He eyed the dark guns warily, knowing they were black despite the fact he saw them as a dark gray.

His ears were especially sensitive to the loud noise, and he'd wanted to run when he heard it. He didn't, though, because he knew the police would never hurt him. At least…they wouldn't if they knew it was him. Sure that the sight of his uniform would straighten things out, Steve ran back into the warehouse to retrieve a piece. Several police officers were already inside, collecting the wounded men and his uniform.

"Back off, dog!" snarled the man handling his uniform, catching a red glove that threatened to fall. Steve knew he shouldn't be mad with them, but growled in annoyance. His canine rumble wasn't appreciated, and the officer reached for his gun. Disappointed, Steve pointed his head to the floor and whined.

"Wait, no! Don't tell it to go. Look, it's wearing Captain's helmet!" said another. Steve perked up. Was he? He hadn't even registered the feel of it on his head as he raced after the man. _There's hope_! He thought, listening to his tail smack the ground as it wagged.

"Why does he have Captain's helmet?"

"Dunno." shrugged another.

"Maybe he got out and Cap put it on his head to protect him." said a third as he shouldered a semi-conscious guy and started towards the front door.

"Maybe." agreed the second.

"Regardless of what he's done, we need to keep the pieces together. We'll wait an hour. If Captain doesn't come back, then we'll give this to Stark."

_I AM Captain! _Steve thought exasperatedly.

"Sounds like a plan. Now…c'mere boy."

_If they take this, I'll have nothing! _Steve panicked, backing away from the man. He needed to keep the helmet until he figured out what to do. Someone would make the connection sooner or later…right?

"You moved too fast! Way to go, Freeman!" heard Steve as he tore out the ajar door and raced away from the scene. He doubted the police would abandon the area to find him, and allowed himself to relax once he hit the busy streets of Manhattan. Hunger assaulted him, courtesy of his accelerated metabolism. People scowled at him as they streamed past, comments ranging from 'Move, dog!' to 'You need to be on a leash!'. Their disapproving looks made him feel like he was standing before yet another man and being denied entrance into the army.

He gave a small whine at the thought, not liking the memories.

Steve separated from the busy streets by following the pavement leading to a restaurant. That was a mistake, he quickly learned. People flocked inside with their food, thinking he'd steal some (and he would, as dishonorable as it was), and drew the attention of a worker. At first glance two metal pans didn't seem intimidating, but Steve learned otherwise. His inner soldier was embarrassed as he bolted from the restaurant, startled by the resonating metallic bang chasing him.

When he tried a different restaurant two streets over, he lucked out. A child gave him some French fries and part of a hot dog bun before he got popped in the nose by the mother. Steve immediately backed off, aware that the women wanted him gone. _If I listen, and they leave, maybe someone else will give me food_! Steve's new tail wagged at the thought. An attendant caught wind of him after a few servers saw him lingering at an empty table, and Steve prepared to run.

Suddenly, "Here boy! C'mere boy!"

Steve's ears perked up. He didn't want to move his eyes from the woman with the broom, but he needed to know who called him. Her hair was gray, meaning it was a color his canine eyes couldn't decipher. She had visibly blue eyes and pale skin. Encouraged by her hands slapping against her knees, Steve trotted over.

At least his two extra feet were good for moving quickly and lightly. She scratched him under the chin, something Steve didn't think he would like. His leg began to kick against the ground; she giggled. _I hate this new body! _He growled, listening to the noise become a two-toned rumble. Rogers hated the newness, but really, _really _liked the scratching.

It was like a cold shower after a long workout. Actually, it carried the same kind of pleasantness that giving the irretrievable flag of seventeen years to his platoon leader brought.

"Is that _your _dog?" the young woman put a hand on her hip, her other wrapped around the broom. Steve looked up to the woman who'd returned to her seat. She hesitated for a moment, lips twitching in the beginning of a grin.

"Of course."

"Where's his leash?"

"It broke when we went for a run earlier." she lied. "I think he knows I eat here, though. Must've come to find me."

"I don't see you here that much." sniffed the employee. Steve ducked his head, hiding against her medium-length skirt. _This is going to go bad_, he feared. They were going to be found out, he'd have to run, and no one would know he was actually Captain America.

"Well, I don't always sit to eat. I'm beginning to remember why." smiled his savior coolly. Steve's head rose at her bold choice of words. The girl didn't have a drop of venom in her voice, but Steve could tell that last part wasn't meant kindly. He did a quick circle, putting himself at her left so he could see the other woman's face. _Priceless, but well deserved_. Steve straightened with pride and relief as the woman left them alone.

His fake owner was something to be proud of, after all. "Here you go." she pinched a piece of bread off and tossed it to him. Steve was surprised to find it taste like pumpkin. "You're a good boy." Steve bowed up at the center, allowing her to rake deep trails through his short fur. That felt good, too.

"Want to come home with me?"

_Until I figure out what to do, yes_. Steve raised an arm – _paw_, he corrected himself – to put thankfully on her leg. She was petite, shorter than his human self – even smaller sitting down – and probably wouldn't take kindly to him standing on two legs to put a paw on her shoulder. It might actually hurt her…or scare her. The last thing he wanted to do was scare off his fake owner.

If she left, he'd really be screwed.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." she laughed, tugging playfully on one blonde ear. Steve accepted several bits of pumpkin bread before another person came out to see them. He tucked himself between the girl's chair and the table in case this person intended to chase him off, too.

"Hi, sorry to disturb you. I'm the manager and I've come to understand that one of my workers may have touched a nerve. I came to apologize. To make up for the incident, can I offer you a coupon?"

"I'm not truly mad, but it's nice you came to sort things out. I'd like the coupon. You guys have really awesome pumpkin bread!" his fake owner laughed.

"Thank you." smiled the man Steve could only see in shades of gray. "May I have your name for the coupon? I sign them now to cut down on the fake ones. Believe it or not, those are growing in popularity."

"That's a shame. It means they want your food." she joked. "But, my name's Liberty, to answer your question." Steve's head snapped up at the name. He was sure one of the warehouse men said something about "liberty". If it was about _this _Liberty, or liberty in general, he couldn't be sure. It was still liberty, and still plucked his keen senses like a guitar string. _You could be in trouble! We have to get you home! No time for food. Follow me! _Steve darted forward a few paces, unhappy to see his fake owner still sat at the table.

Liberty and the manager were clearly amused by his sudden movement. Steve gave a low grumble of annoyance. He trotted back over to Liberty and placed his paw on her leg. She scratched his ears and the back of his neck as the manager scribbled down information. When he went back inside, and Steve had her full attention, he put his paw on her leg again.

This girl just wasn't getting it!

At least she knew he was enjoying the scratching. Steve felt like happy enough to melt into a puddle after the day he'd had. The manager came out with her coupon moments later. Finished with her pumpkin bread and milk, Liberty forked over eight dollars for the meal and lightly pinched a handful of the dog's fur between her fingers. She'd never been allowed to have dogs in her old home. To find one so well-behaved like this one was a gift. Her heart ached for his sad blue eyes. It was almost sin to leave him alone in the wake of that employee's wrath.

He seemed very relaxed. Trusting, at the very least. The restaurant, All about the Dough, was walking distance from her apartment on Sullivan Street. She was ready to get home after a long day of rehearsal and betted her newfound pup wanted downtime, too. Liberty thought the pup looked sad with his strangely blue eyes and the way he kept himself wrapped around her leg.

If she didn't know better, she'd say he'd just lost his friends. "C'mon, pup-pup." Liberty rubbed his side fondly, noting the half-hearted wag of his tail. Steve hesitated at the steps of her apartment building, noticing that it was upscale. Surely a place like this wouldn't allow dogs!

"C'mon, pup-pup!" called Liberty again, patting her legs. Steve reluctantly complied. "No one will chase you away here." promised Liberty as she ruffled his short hair. "My grandma owns the building." revealed Liberty as she opened the door for the dog and followed behind him. _I should be opening the door for you_, Steve frowned at himself.

He would, but paws made that hard.

She guided him to an elevator, glad to find it vacant, and chose the fifth floor. Steve counted the doors, grasping onto any remaining sense of humanity in his new body. Processing things as an intelligent human would keep the hysteria at bay. Keep his mind focused and ready to think through this new issue. Liberty lived in 518, and unlocked it for him.

Liberty's apartment was easily twice the size of his now-useless apartment. SHIELD gave it to him because they understood that not everyone wanted to live with Tony Stark. It was still available for when he needed to break away from the group, but stood largely abandoned. Probably dusty. Very unlike the posh room he'd just entered.

Her apartment had no sprawling glass windows to capture the whole city, but Steve didn't mind. He was grateful that she chose colors he could _see_! Liberty's home was furnished in white, blue, beige, and caramel. She had a décor that was fairly relaxed, something Steve appreciated after being surrounded by Stark's sometimes – often – unnecessary extravagance. The door opened into a white carpeted living room that connected to a kitchen at the right.

Across the living room – decorated with a sapphire blue couch, brown coffee table, and a few hanging pictures – was a thin hallway leading into darkness. Steve assumed her bedroom was in that direction. "We're home!" Liberty threw her hands out, not really expecting a reaction from the dog. She was rewarded with a long stare. The girl sighed and took her red hair down from the sloppy bun, running her fingers through the curls she'd inherited from her mother.

"Feel free to play…lay down…do whatever you want. Just don't eat my stuff." Liberty told the dog as she flopped onto the couch. It was nice to get off her feet after enduring hours of proper singing posture. Now that he was safe, in a place people wouldn't dare intrude to find him, Steve allowed the fatigue to seep into his bones. Today had been a long day, to say the least. He pried the helmet off his face at last and let it tumble to the floor, curling up beside it.

His new body was strange. The restrictions were even odder, and frustrated him. It was nearly as bad as being seventy years behind on the time. _I could use a pick-me-up_, Steve regretted to tell himself. Petting would have to do for now.

It went against his personal preference of learning about a woman first, but Steve let it slide. Liberty's hands were like magic across the back of his neck and left side. "You're a cutie!" she smiled, hand flowing up from his side to his ears as give one an affectionate rub. "I wonder if you have a name. Or if someone's looking for you. You kind of look like a Sampson to me."

_Steve_, he corrected reflexively. _You're in the ballpark, though. Try again._

"Actually…you kind of remind me of my aunt's dog, Lucky. I think Lucky was a labrador, too. I don't know if you're a labrador, but you _look _like a labrador."

_I'm an Avenger, actually. My name is Steve, not Lucky. I am lucky though; you saved me from that broom. Thank you. _He snuggled his head against her hip and climbed higher into the space between her loosely curled arm and left side.

"I should give you a name that plays off your white coat." said Liberty, absently threading his left ear through her fingers.

_Call me Steve._

"Judging by your…um…position on the couch, I can see that you're male." Liberty observed a bit awkwardly. It wasn't a habit of hers to note the gender of animals. She couldn't help but notice, though, because the dog was snuggled against her. His long, lean legs were partially tangled in hers. "What about Marshmallow? I can call you Marsh!"

_Steve_, he insisted. Because he couldn't communicate as a human in his current situation, he gave a low, disapproving hum.

"Casper, you know, like the ghost?" she received another deep blurt.

_No, Steve. My name is Steve Rogers._

"What about Cotton?"

_Don't worry about it right now. _Steve gave another deep hum and rolled over slightly so she could pet his stomach. _Just pet me._


	2. What's in a Name

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to badwolfette21, MonstrousFeral, Leto Lelantos, beccat, darkoraclegirl, mythwriter, Midnight Chamber, Artistic Punk, ThoughtlessRage, and La Bella Figura for reviewing the first chapter. It meant a lot :D. Appreciate all the follows, too!

To darkoraclegirl: She didn't comment on it because I didn't want to throw everything into the first chapter. I had to have material to work with, so to speak.

Midnight Chamber: Were there? Feel free to tell me what they were so I can fix them :D. (I've looked back on the chapter and think I got most of them).

Sorry this took so long! I had multiple ideas on how to start and couldn't figure out which one I wanted. That and I'm working on some private stuff on the side. I made up the part about Steve's mom and _Little Orphan Annie_.

* * *

One: What's in a Name

Steve snorted, clawed feet clicking silently across Liberty's bedroom floor. He'd been in here three times already and she _still _wasn't up! _Peggy would've torn you to pieces, _mused Steve as he grabbed the tangled bed sheet in his teeth and began to pull. Liberty rolled in her sleep, and had done a good job of twisting the sheets, but Steve managed to unearth her left leg. "Stop!" whined Liberty, snuggling her face sleepily against the pillow as she felt her dog's warm breath waft over her leg.

Shaking his head jostled and moistened her pajama bottoms. Liberty pulled away from Steve, rolling over to tug what was left of her blanket over her little body. _I need to exercise this body. You have to get up! C'mon, up and at 'em! It's six thirty! One of us should've made breakfast by now! _Steve pressed his front paws into the bed, smiling as it dipped and undulated beneath his weight. "Bad dog!" wailed Liberty as the bed lurched under the dog's weight.

The muffled _harr-rarrr-rur _of the dog lying on his back to writhe around soon met her ears. He was either scratching a bad itch or being obnoxious. Whatever he was doing, it was pushing her out of the bed. "I'm up." mumbled Liberty unenthusiastically as she peeled her tired eyes open, registering the pain in her tailbone. Steve crawled on his belly to the edge of the bed, tail wagging full-speed as she escaped from the sheets and stumbled to her tiny vanity.

She was brushing her hair, and because she took the effort to do so Steve knew she was up. Living with Natasha, Cori, and Pepper taught him that no woman would fix her hair and then ruin it. No, once they fixed their hair they were up. "I should call you Commander." mused Liberty, "You're bossy."

_I am a captain, not a commander! And I'm not bossy. I get things done._ He raised a paw, objecting to her statement. Liberty giggled. If she didn't know better, the dog was striking down her comment. She slid the second hairclip in her hair, smoothing her fingers over grown-out bangs that blended into her ponytail. It was six thirty, and she felt like killing someone, but at least her hair was cooperating.

"You woke me up an hour and a half early. I'm assuming it's for the bathroom? You better piss half your weight." Liberty joked as she rubbed one blue eye tiredly. Steve tucked his head towards his front feet, raising one paw to drape it over his nose. That was unbecoming language for a young woman! Had he been human, he would've blushed. Then again, had he been human, he would not be in Liberty's bed.

Certainly not in her apartment!

"But, since I'm up early, we can go out and get you some things. We'll need a leash, food, and maybe a few dog toys so you won't chew on things while I'm gone." Liberty made an invisible list on her fingers, throwing up one for each item. _Where are you going? What do you do? Who will protect you when you leave? _wondered Steve, feeling his ears raise curiously at the questions he couldn't verbalize. She was pulled from her steadily growing mental list by the sight of his ears rising as his face tilted to the left. It was a cute look for him, that slight confusion and yearning to understand.

His little doggie brows were scrunched together as if to draw his ears up high. She had his full attention. "I'm in a play. We're doing a rendition of _Annie_. I'm Annie."

_Oh, so you have red hair then, hm? _Steve righted his head and lowered his ears. That made sense. He vaguely remembered the _Little Orphan Annie _comic strips, but only because his mother used to collect them. She would pull them out when he felt depressed about his tiny, scrawny figure and show just how better off he'd been than little Annie. "Let's go, pup-pup." Liberty pulled open her closet, picking through a rack of neatly organized shoes to find a pair with built-in skates.

They'd never caught on in upper Manhattan, not when she was a child, but had been all the rage in Florida when she visited her aunt. She'd been given a pair for Christmas, much to the disgust of her grandmother. Steve watched in awe as the unsuspecting sneakers produced four tiny wheels. "I haven't grown in years. It means I don't have to shop a lot, and I can keep my old stuff!" beamed Liberty proudly as she unearthed a helmet, kneepads, and elbow pads. The director wouldn't take kindly to her having scrapes and scratches during rehearsal.

"C'mon, pup-pup!" Liberty patted his side and skated down the hall towards the front door. Breakfast would come later, as she wasn't used to eating this early. _Exercise_! Steve darted after Liberty, nearly spinning her in a circle as he slipped out the door and ran excitedly between the elevator and her door. She followed him after locking the door, glad no one commented on her blonde dog. People stared, of course, but no one dared to say anything to the granddaughter of the building owner.

Liberty felt embarrassed to have them look at her like…like _that_. It was equal parts awareness and wistfulness, mixed with a hint of envy. If her grandma, Caroline, hadn't made such a fuss no one would know she was a Ramsey. Few knew it now; she used her mother's maiden name as an alias. Steve trotted patiently alongside Liberty as she coasted smoothly along the streets.

People hissed and scowled as she weaved between them, but Steve found it more breathable than yesterday. Their first and only stop was at a pet store four blocks down the street. Liberty bought a leash, treats, toys, and an eight pound bag of food. It was a short but enjoyable walk. "We can go on another walk when I get back from rehearsal." promised Liberty, heart aching at the way he flopped hopefully by the door.

Realizing he wasn't going out any time soon, Steve moseyed over to the couch and laid down. _What do I do now? We weren't out long enough to check the park. I bet Pepper took the twins to the park. Do they miss me? _Steve rolled to his side, laying down to contemplate the thoughts. Laying down to think had become his norm where thoughts were concerned.

The habit had been formed nearly seventy years ago. Steve couldn't count how many days he lay awake in bed wondering about the doctor's secret program. It had become like second nature to relate lying down to thought. At the end of a rigorous training day, bed was the place for Steve. Just Steve, not Soldier Steve. Brooklyn Steve.

_This isn't right. I wouldn't stand idly by in my human body. I have to do something! I…what's that smell? FOOD! I SMELL FOOD!_ in one quick pivot Steve rose to his four feet to search for food. Liberty shut the oven door firmly, sealing in a dozen muffins. Steve gazed excitedly into the small window-like space, seeing a brighter gray than normal. His young owner was cooking something! "No muffins for you!" giggled Liberty, trapping his ears between her fingers and gently rocking his head from side to side.

_I will have a muffin!_ thought Steve, _You just wait! Steve Rogers does _not_ eat kibble! _

"Be right back, pup-pup." Liberty scratched his head before moving to find a camera. Her cellphone didn't take high-quality pictures and a good picture was necessary for the flyers. Someone had to be missing this dog, right? She thought it was a kid, as the dog had come with a Captain America helmet. It wasn't uncommon to see a dog playing a superhero sidekick, not with all the Avengers memorabilia in stores.

"Smile!" Steve knew the thing in her hands was a camera, but was taken aback by the suddenness of it all. Liberty frowned at the picture. He didn't look right without that helmet. It was weird to think a dog looked _made_ for that thing. "Go get your helmet boy!" encouraged Liberty.

_Finally, maybe now we can discuss this name issue! _grabbing his helmet by the chinstrap, Steve carried it back to Liberty. She delicately pulled his ears through, sitting it as best she could on his long snout. The mask was made for someone with a human nose, not a dog nose. Further evidence of him belonging to a child, reasoned Liberty as he sat straight and still for his next picture. "Someone went to a good training school." complimented Liberty as she took a clear picture of the well-behaved dog.

_None better than the army!_ Steve wagged his tail. His attention stance was merely sitting with his front paws together, but Steve still held his head high. Dog or not, he was still an army member! "I don't know if you understand this, but…well, never mind. I'll just bring my laptop out here." Liberty pinched one blonde ear fondly before scurrying off to her room. The dog was smart, but she wouldn't trust the fate of her muffins to him.

Liberty set up a sleek laptop at the small island and began to construct a flyer. She'd run off copies after finishing rehearsal and take him on a walk to distribute them later. "Presumably a labrador. Pale blonde coat. Lean. Blue eyes." She typed, liking to think out loud. Steve drew himself up on his hind legs, using the island to support his front paws. Stark and Banner taught him about technology, but a knowledgeable person easily using something so advanced never failed to amaze him.

He wanted to watch her type, also. His canine eyes could actually decipher the black and white print. "Was found at All about the Dough. Responds to 'boy' and 'pup-pup'. Wears a Captain America helmet." added Liberty. "Sound about right?" she asked, turning to face him. They were nose to nose. Steve gave a soft bark in response, tail beating against the island.

"I'll put my cellphone number here and we're done!" She ran off a copy, retrieving it from the wireless printer in the office area just before the laundry room. There were ten minutes left on her muffins. _Ten minutes to kill_, thought Liberty as she drummed her fingers absently across the island. With the internet at her fingertips, she was never bored. She was never bored, period.

Her mind could quickly jump from one thing to another without warning. A word could send her into a different subject on a second's notice. Thinking of singing at rehearsal, her mind turned to music and the nearest search engine. Elvis Presley's "Can't Help Falling In Love" began to play. "My parents got married to this song." smiled Liberty as she spun.

Spinning was about all she could do where dancing was concerned. She had two left feet. "Wanna dance, pup-pup?" _I don't know how_. Steve just sat there._ I kind of missed my last appointment_. His ears rose and dipped slightly as if to convey disappointment and sadness. "C'mon, pup-pup!" Liberty tapped her chest, wanting him to stand. Steve carefully stood to put his front paws in her hands. They swayed slightly, Steve's feet unsteady and hesitant on the linoleum of her kitchen. _This isn't so bad_! he wagged his tail at his success.

Neither one of them had fallen over in two minutes. He felt quite accomplished. Liberty broke away to find a new song, picking Elvis Presley's "Love Me Tender". "You're a good boy." Liberty ruffled the fur on his neck as the slow song played. It felt nice to spend time with her new housemate; it was nice to have someone who didn't _suggest _against everything she did for a change.

_And it smells like you're a good cook. _Steve's tail wagged happily, slowly at the thought of human food. "Okay, down boy." She released him after that song, letting Sinatra sing in the background as she checked on her muffins. Liberty went to wash her face, knowing her muffins were minutes from being done. Washing her face maintained good hygiene, killed time, and allowed her to hunt down a decorative basket from the hall closet. By the time she found a cloth napkin to cushion the basket, her muffins were done.

Steve barked as the buzzer blurted. It both startled and excited him. Liberty shushed him before a neighbor came to complain, shutting off the oven as she slipped on a mitt to remove the pan. _Smells like blueberries! I want one! _"No, no. _No_, Captain!" admonished Liberty, holding her muffin above her head as the dog jumped. _She called me Captain! _Steve ran in a quick, happy circle.

"Here. You can have _your _food and I'll have mine." Liberty's mitt clutched the hot muffin close as she grabbed a random bowl to cover her breakfast. Steve whimpered, entertaining the idea of knocking the bowl down. Or flipping it over. She opened the bag, using her once-protective bowl as Captain's food dish. He kept his eyes trained on the blue-specked muffin.

_I'll let her have this one_, decided Steve as he laid down quietly by the island. _Once she's gone the basket won't be guarded_. He watched her carefully extract and pile blueberry muffins in the little wicker basket. Liberty dusted her hands, placing a water dish beside Captain's food bowl. "I wasn't going to call you Captain, but it kind of fits." She admitted, noting his alertness, the helmet, and collected presence.

The helmet was the real clincher in the decision. Liberty ate two muffins before washing it down with a glass of milk. Ever curious, Steve followed her to the office area. "I'm getting on the treadmill. I've got a little time to kill before rehearsal." explained Liberty when he kept raising his ears and dropping them. It was the only piece of exercise equipment Steve had seen thus far, taking residence between the wall and wireless printer. He watched her run for a few minutes before growing bored.

He was tempted to grab a muffin, but didn't. She'd probably come out for water and catch him in the act. Steve took to the couch instead. His canine ears could hear her feet pounding against the machine, even from his position on the couch. Everything was safe in his owner's house, including her, so he'd done his duty for the moment.

Nearly a half-hour later he was ripped from an unexpected doze by the sound of rumbling water. _It's just the shower_, realized Captain once he went to investigate. A shaft of light escaped the bathroom door and he stuck his black nose into it. The smell of lavender and moistness tickled his nostrils. Satisfied at the lack of peril, Steve went back to the couch.

"C'mon, boy. You have to go potty before I leave." Liberty leaned over the couch, sending the occasional water droplet onto his fur. Steve looked up, seeing damp, straight hair hang over his stomach. _You're an interesting woman_, Steve mused. He was pretty sure she was draped across the couch in her quest to rouse him. They went on another short walk, just long enough for Steve to find somewhere to do his business, but the super soldier couldn't.

It was too weird knowing he was connected to a girl by a leash. He couldn't concentrate knowing she would have to clean up after him. Liberty waited five minutes – the most she could afford – before taking him back to the house. She ripped up an old issue of _Cosmopolitan _before putting it in the corner for Captain to use. A surprise was the last thing she wanted to see after a long day of practice.

"You be a good boy, Captain. I have to go. I'll be home soon, okay?" Liberty crouched, grinning at the dog as he came up to see her. He was an odd one, that dog. Captain had been trailing behind her all morning, patiently patrolling. It was an unusual level of alertness for a dog to have. She scratched under his chin and kissed his snout before breezing to the radio, intending to leave him with company.

_My third kiss! First calm one, really._ Steve thought as Liberty returned and gingerly tugged on one ear before disappearing with her purse in hand. The first one had been by that crazy receptionist on base. Peggy hadn't been happy about that one, and had given him his second one. Hers had been bittersweet and panicked, as they knew something was going to happen when he confronted Red Skull. He just never expected to go down in a freezing ocean.

Liberty's was entirely different. She didn't think he was actually a human, so her kiss was much more childish and harmless. Steve didn't know how to feel. A kiss after seventy years of being frozen was essentially like being kissed for the first time. He'd forgotten how it felt.

Seldom remembered he wasn't some scrawny little guy women would overlook. Mildly dazed, Steve waited to see if she'd come back to him. Part of him wanted her to as the loneliness began to mount, but he couldn't discern whether that came from Dog Steve or Human Steve. _She's definitely gone_, Steve determined. _To the muffins! _He trotted to the kitchen, eyeing the unguarded basket.

How to do this without leaving evidence? If he grabbed the basket with his teeth, well, that would be obvious. He couldn't eat out of it because that would contaminate the other muffins. Trying to paw it down created a risk of spilling the muffins. After five minutes of pacing and thinking, Steve got the bright idea to remove his helmet and use it as a scoop.

He was relatively sure the eyeholes would cradle the muffins. It took about three minutes, but he managed to knock two into his helmet. If he was human, Steve would've laughed. Then again, if he was human he wouldn't have had to try that hard for a muffin. It was a task to peel the paper liners off with his paws, but Steve hardly cared when he bit into the blueberry muffin.

The struggle was worth it. Liberty's muffins were moist, but didn't crumble. Steve thought it was nice to enjoy someone else's food for a change. He cooked in Stark Tower because he got up early, but also because some were better off not making food. Pepper cooked well, but was busy with the twins. Tony knew how, but was lazy (or would rather order out to save time).

Bruce learned to make many dishes throughout his mad run across the country but some were hard for the other members to stomach. Thor's definition of cooking was to throw everything in the pan and leave it until smoke rose. Often times his combinations left something to be desired. Natasha and Clint could cook well enough – it was something they had to learn to survive on independent missions – but didn't make a balanced breakfast, Steve thought. Thinking of home saddened him.

He wanted to be back with all his friends and, yes, even Tony. Being a dog was hard. Bruce and Tony would've been able to figure something out by now. Depressed by his lack of progress, Steve sought solace on the couch. It didn't help that Sinatra was singing "Stormy Weather".

Steve dozed, surrounded by the comfort of old music. He woke up a few times, and each time he woke up alone. Liberty seemed to be taking forever to come home. To get his body moving, he sat by the door. It didn't make her come in, to his disappointment.

He settled for walking through the house. With Liberty gone, and time to kill, he could patrol. Steve nosed the door to her room open after checking the laundry room and office. His eyes narrowed as his lips curled up to reveal sharp teeth. A man with brown eyes exposed by a ski mask froze, one foot down on Liberty's carpet. "Fuck, they didn't tell me she had a dog!" he tried to scramble backwards and out of the window, both hands full.

One hand held the window, and in the other was a crowbar. Steve gave a long, ungodly snarl as he charged at the man. His teeth caught around a chain necklace, snapping it like a twig as he stripped two thin pieces of the black shirt from the man's chest. The once-human could feel his canine claws skirt across the man's left shoulder as he pounced.

The man was stumbling and falling down the fifth-floor fire escape as Steve growled and fluffed up his coat. He pursued, able to take the flight of stairs much faster than the panicked man. Without warning the man spun and swung the crowbar. Steve yelped, feeling a pulsing pain and a heady sting. Seeing his opening, the man vaulted over the side and landed on a lower level.

_Jesus! Apparently this body's more prone to pain!_ Steve shook his head, putting a paw tentatively to his nose. Even without the touch of his own paw, he could tell it was tender and bleeding. The iron smell was nearly palpable. With the threat terminated, Steve slipped back inside and kicked the window down. He dropped his head to retrieve the necklace, finding it to be a dog tag.

_Narcozi_, Steve cocked his head. The name didn't ring a bell. He winced as the air stung his bruised nose. _That makes two incidents, and that's two too many. We're going to see Tony tomorrow._ He decided. It was too much of a coincidence for the man in the warehouse to speak of "liberty" and then have another man breaking in.

_It's the least I can do for you after being taken in. And this isn't a favor, it's a necessity. _Steve began to assure himself. Liberty wouldn't understand, what with him being a dog and all, but Steve knew what he had to do. He knew what was right.

_It's only natural. When any type of liberty is in danger, Captain America comes to defend it. _


	3. From Annie to Avenger

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to radio-ga-ga, badwolfette21, beccat, and pizzagirl for reviewing the last chapter!

I'm concerned that this story won't have as much 'oomph' as Cori and Bruce because Steve's not really seen as a lusting type of guy. You know? It's actually kind of hard to plan out old-fashioned romance xD.

Note: for anyone who likes Banner/Cori, I've started a collection of drabbles titled "We Need to Quit Meeting like This". It's the alternate ways Cori and Bruce could've met. Check it out!

* * *

Two: From 'Annie' to Avengers

"May we come in, Mr. Stark?"

"Whatever it was, I didn't do it!" Tony exclaimed, trying to open the door and look surprised as Julienne climbed up his face.

"It's not that kind of visit, Mr. Stark." assured one police officer as Tony sat down his coffee cup and put Julienne on his shoulders. He felt the little fingers immediately burrow into his hair, scrunching the product and strands curiously between his fingers. With his hands behind his head, braced against Julienne's back, Tony Stark appeared to be surrendering to them.

"Then what—" Tony began to ask, question dissolving at the sight of a familiar uniform draped over the officer's arm. He'd know that tacky but loveable red, white, and blue scheme anywhere! Concerned about his ability to support Julienne, Stark took his giddy child into his arms. Why was Steve's uniform here without Steve?

"You might want to sit down." advised the officer as Stark breezed away from the door, insisting they take a seat and explain the confusing scene. The officers complied, quietly rearranging the pieces of Steve's uniform over a chair arm. Alerted to law enforcement presence by JARVIS, Pepper Potts followed close behind with Sorrel on her hip.

"…so when we found that, we wanted to bring it here." finished the officer roughly five minutes later. He'd been interrupted a few times by Emery squawking in glee as Thor raced around the house with the tiny passenger on his large shoulders. Coriander followed close behind, navigating Stark Tower with her wings. Bruce chased after her with a stopwatch, the scientific element in the otherwise fantastical game of chase. Frozen by the horrible news and unanswered questions, Pepper was powerless to stop curious Sorrel as she stole the closest piece from the chair arm.

The officer instinctively leaned over to stop her, but stalled at her dark brown eyes framed by even darker hair. She sucked idly on the finger of Steve's glove, looking at the strange, new person. "Thank you for your time, gentleman. We'll analyze it and get back to you." promised Tony. His head spun with confusion as his mind locked down around the world 'analyze' like a Rottweiler on an intruder.

"Thirty-two seconds." announced Bruce as Thor slowed his thunderous feet and Cori touched down behind a giggling Emery. The youngest Banner squawked happily, patting Thor's head like a drum.

"Meet me in the lab, Bruce. We have some things to go over."

"Fury doesn't need that team update until Monday. We still have one day." Bruce defended, setting the folder and chart on a small table before extracting Emery. Hulk had enough of other people holding his child. It was his turn now. It was supposed to be, anyways.

"This is about our missing Capsicle, doctor." He waved the studded collar as he spoke.

"I'll be there shortly." Bruce frowned, wondering what to do with Emery. Baby Banner placed a large, sloppy kiss on Bruce's cheek. His giggling finally faded, leaving him with only a grin. With a kiss to the head and a promise to return, Bruce passed him off to Coriander. Waiting for him in the lab was Steve's incomplete uniform, three seemingly empty glass darts, and one studded collar freshly laid by Tony Stark.

"Odd, right?" mused Tony dryly as he kept an eye glued to a microscope. "The first thing that jumped into my head is: 'Steve's stripped'. 'He's running around Manhattan naked' followed."

"I doubt Steve would do that." Bruce allowed himself to chuckle lightly. He knew Tony was diffusing his worry with humor. Steve was a _super soldier_. How could anything happen to him? "I don't think he'd dabble in leather, either." commented Bruce, as if he could read Tony's mind.

A fragment of the dazzling collar was missing. Bruce could only assume it held Tony's attention. "Look, I know you're worried about Steve but have you considered he had to lose his uniform for a reason? Maybe he needed to blend in!" Bruce pointed out. Off the top of his head, he knew of few things able to stop Steve.

It just seemed odd to have his empty uniform in the room.

"Something happened." Tony mumbled to himself, pulling away from the microscope. "Analyze those darts. I'm going to call Fury."

"Sure." Bruce slipped on a pair of gloves, pinching one bulbous chamber between his fingers as he looked for something tweezer-like and strong enough to break the needle off. He doubted there would be anything to swab in the chamber, as he could see nothing, and thought the needle would be the best choice. It had funneled the contents into various victims, after all. Steve wasn't the only one attacked at the warehouse, though he _was_ the only one missing. "There's an overwhelming amount of canine DNA in this. I'm seeing a mix of dander, blood, and saliva." Bruce pulled back from the focused image beneath the microscope as the lab door opened again, searching for copied medical logs and police reports filed on behalf of the attacked officers Steve had gone to aid.

A handful came out unexplainably swollen and red. The criminals had somehow managed to fashion a makeshift allergen triggered by canine DNA. That's what he and Tony deduced from the reports after checking their medical records. It was another mystery to add to the pile concerning the dognappers. How could a ring of criminals manufacture an allergen?

They would need some pretty heavy tech to do so. What the officers recovered in the warehouse was impressive, but far from refined. One glance at photos of the bigger guns had Tony rattling off improvement suggestions and pointing out lazy structural organization. When he said, "This person has an understanding, and money to play, but no meticulousness." Bruce wondered who they were dealing with. Wondered about their motives.

"SHIELD's tech swears Steve's alive." Tony blew out a sigh, tapping his fingers quietly on the table. Few of the things before him made sense. The fragments buried in the leather turned out to be crystal. High quality crystal, and that alone left him scratching his head. Why deal with the pain of buying it in chips when an intact piece could be purchased for a slightly higher price?

Bruce paused, gloves partially stripped from his hands. His intent to figure out what type of canine DNA was in the dart fell apart. The idea that Steve was alive was…interesting and alarming. Was he not swollen like the other policemen? Had he been given civilian clothes to hide his assumed nakedness?

How could no one report a missing, naked Avenger?

"Well," Bruce felt his shoulders pinch together as he dipped his head to process the information, "where is he?"

"I think _I _can answer that." Pepper grunted, wheeling the two-seat stroller through the lab entrance. Tony met her halfway before she kicked anything out of her way. In her hand was a lightly crumpled flyer. "Look familiar?" she grinned victoriously as Tony smoothed out the flyer. A blue-eyed dog with eyes mostly disguised by a camera flash stared, bemused, at the photographer through a Captain America helmet.

"This is ridiculous." snorted Tony. Steve, turned into a dog? Was that even scientifically possible?

"His helmet _is _the only thing missing." pointed out Bruce.

"And a glove." blushed Pepper. "Sorrel won't give it back."

"We have no other leads, Tony. It won't hurt to try." Bruce shrugged.

"We can run a thermal scan for Steve!" Pepper suggested.

"Brilliant, Pep-Pep, but no dice. As a dog – if he _is _a dog – his body temperature may be different. JARVIS is only programmed to check for his normal body temperature."

"Give me her number and I'll search it." Cori squeezed past the stroller and grunted as she bumped a table. Emery bounced in her arms, roaring like a dinosaur. Bruce smiled at the little pawing motions he made. He was ready to see Hulk.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you!" teased Tony as Coriander flicked her eyes across the number and furrowed her brows. Along with nine months of motherhood came nine months of necessary practice. Her range had greatly expanded since the debut of her gift. A window popped up on the computer, installed with JARVIS' hardware and tracking capabilities. The red dot beeped silently, carving a steady path through labeled Manhattan streets.

"She's…" Tony paused, staring stupidly at the screen.

"Right outside, sir?" JARVIS finished, a hint of smugness in his allegedly computerized voice. Sorrel slapped the glove excitedly against her buckle. Tony helped Pepper turn the wagon-like stroller around before bolting out before her. This he had to see.

* * *

"Bad dog, Captain! _Bad dog_!" Liberty admonished, hardly threatening since she was upside down in a bag-less trashcan. She was simply thankful that the cleaners had just removed the trash from this street. Because it was Saturday and they didn't need to meet for practice, she'd taken Captain on the walk he deserved. After the last flyer had been passed out, Captain took off! Her dog took off fast enough for her skate shoes to skip dangerously across the pavement.

They weren't meant to withstand such a pace. She bounced off several pedestrians and a light pole before Captain showed any sign of slowing. Captain had taken her to Stark Tower and cut a quick left towards the double door entrance. His quick left caused her to catch on a trashcan and tumble into it. With a yelp at the sudden tightness around his throat, Captain relaxed and returned to analyze the problem.

_I'm sorry Liberty, I'm sorry! I just got so excited! This is where Tony lives, and I know Tony! _Steve's tail beat against the iron mesh of the trashcan. He stood up against the trashcan, testing his strength against it. Liberty's shoed legs flailed as she tried to turn or right herself enough to escape. He circumvented her wildly swinging legs to push it from the other side. "Steve?" called Tony, breaking his concentration.

_Reporting for duty! Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony! I didn't think I'd be happy to see you but I AM and you're HERE and can I lick your face? _He jumped up and down excitedly, barking ecstatically as Tony drew closer. Tony groaned as the white blur bowled him over, scowling as something wet and smelling of blueberry moistened his cheek. "Alright, alright! Enough!" gasped Tony, finally pushing the dog off him.

"Help!" the skates caused the trashcan to echo as they bounced off the rim again. He could hear the stroller passing over cracks in the sidewalk as he stood.

"Hold still, kid."

"I'm not a kid! I just don't grow!" grumbled the feminine voice as Tony harnessed his strength and pulled the stranger out by one leg.

"Bad dog, Captain!" breathed the young woman once Tony set her on her feet again. She smoothed out wild red hair as she caught her breath. Steve ducked his head, a low grumble of an apology slipping from his throat.

"I know you…" Tony studied her for a few minutes. Her long bangs fell from the clips, loosely curled and framing her pale face. Liberty shifted nervously from foot to foot. "You're Liberty Ramsey." he smiled.

"How do you-? I mean, I know you but…not personally."

"Your mom catered a few parties for my dad while I was growing up. Come inside. We need to talk about you're, uh, _dog_, anyways."

"What's wrong with my dog?"

"Just come inside. Please." Tony offered his arm, noticing she was a bit unsteady on the skates. Frowning, Liberty took his arm. Steve trotted in happily behind them, glad to be home. Pepper brought up the rear, boxing them all in with the stroller.

"Mr. Stark? You have a visitor." said JARVIS as they squeezed into the elevator.

"Tell them I have other things to tend to."

"As do I, Mr. Stark." Tony frowned at Fury as the doors opened.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Director Fury?"

"Apparently Captain is alive but not with his uniform. Care to explain?"

"You just found out about this? Reading those updates must be hell with one eye." chuckled Tony. Pepper elbowed him after exiting the elevator.

"SHIELD is an exclusive division. Sometimes people have a hard time believing our existence." replied Fury, his monotone voice icy and punctuated.

"For reasons currently undetermined, Captain is temporarily locked in canine form. Steve, bark if this is true." Tony gestured to the dog, his eyes never leaving Fury. Steve, at attention, gave a short and powerful bark.

"And I assume this is his owner?" Fury's one eye danced over the girl, a mix of curious and suspicious. Was she in on this? How had Steve wandered into her care? Had anyone followed her?

"Yes sir. Liberty Ramsey." she extended her hand. He refused to shake it. Put off, Liberty gradually lowered it to her side. Obviously politeness and manners weren't valued by a man who wanted to do business.

"Come with me, Ms. Ramsey. You'll need to answer a few questions and give typical routines so I can keep men on you at all times."

"What? Why? What is this all about? Is this because of my dog?"

"That dog is not, in fact, a dog."

"That's ridiculous! Dogs can't be people!"

"No objections, Ms. Ramsey!" Fury rounded on her quicker than expected. The snapping of his trench coat startled her. "You've unknowingly assisted an Avenger. By doing so, you've put yourself in danger. Special protocols have to be enacted now to ensure your safety." With no other choice, Liberty followed him. Steve began to follow, identified by his clicking claws.

"Stay, Rogers. Go see Banner. Hopefully we'll have a way to undo this." Fury paused long enough to listen for the end of claws on Stark's floor. Steve wouldn't whimper in front of Fury, his superior, but did let his ears droop.

"Check the smash room…Steve." Tony informed, not ready to address the dog as his missing friend. He caught the nodding motion and mentally admitted that the dog was incredibly smart for a common dog. Pepper and Tony unloaded the twins from the stroller, intending to feed them as Natasha and Clint started on lunch. Fury breezed into the kitchen nearly a half-hour later, paper clasped tightly in one hand.

"Ms. Ramsey's just given me a detailed schedule of her typical week. In the event that my agents cannot fulfill the task of escorting her to and from the local production of _Annie_, the responsibility falls to you. She is to-" an alarm began to be shrilly on his person. Fury picked a small communication device from his pocket. "Fury here. Speak."

_"Ramsey's complex is in flames! Sudden ignition, possibly a bomb!"_

"She'll be staying here. No arguments, Stark. I need to investigate this. Someone obviously wanted Rogers dead." he left as quick as he came, leaving all kitchen occupants stunned.

"You can't just order me around! What am I supposed to do, hide out? People will be looking for me!" Liberty yelled at his back. Fury didn't seem worried about turning around.

"You can save your own life by staying here." answered Fury matter-of-factly "As for what you can do…well, Stark could use a maid."

"You pompous, insolent-!"

"Goodbye, Ms. Ramsey."

Fuming, shaking, Liberty could only make a hissing noise at his departure. Her fingers were clenched tightly enough to leave wounds on her palms.

"Just breaking the awkward silence here." Tony spoke up as Pepper mashed carrots and peas, "Isn't it ironic that you get rags-to-riches story like Annie? Well, it's more of a rich-to-richer story, but same concept. Funny, right?"


	4. Lost and Found

The Pursuit of Liberty

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**AN: **Thanks to Kanamikan, Midnight Chamber, badwolfette21, La Bella Figura, amy, pizzagirl, and Cordillia Bennet for reviewing the last chapter. It means a lot! Sorry I'm slow on updates. I've had a family medical emergency and I've also been trying to run around and get ready for another semester of college, so updates are gonna be played by ear, so to speak. Also – still – working on original stuff.

Gotta try to be even with everything.

**Warning: **this story will have dark undertones, so if you're uncomfortable with mentions of emotional issues, abuse, and imperfect homes, you've been warned.

A reader didn't like the rape scene in _Doctor Patient Confidentiality _so I thought to put out a warning. It doesn't apply AS MUCH to this chapter, but will matter as the story progresses. Also, if anyone has suggestions on how to portray lusty Steve, or fic recommendations (on or off fanfiction) that I can read to get an idea, that would be lovely. Trying to imagine _Steve Rogers_ as passionately aggressive or possessive is kind of hard for me, for whatever reason.

And yes, as one or two of you said in the reviews, Tony and Fury should've been punched. Liberty has other ideas for revenge (which is why I didn't include that). As an apology for my lack of update, this chapter is especially long. I was worried about the flow, but think I did alright.

* * *

Three: Lost and Found

Liberty was rarely one for early rising, but she was up at five thirty because her body refused to sleep. Be it paranoia or habit, Liberty could never sleep the first night in a new place. Her rumbling stomach wouldn't have let her sleep, anyways. She was used to getting up and snacking once or twice during the night, but was afraid to do so in this new house. Especially with that robot, JARVIS, asking her every question under the sun for the sake of accommodation.

He'd nearly caused her to piss her pants last night as she searched for the bathroom. His voice was soft, somewhat British, and ever-present. It was a bit unnerving. The only familiar part about sprawling Stark Tower was Captain. Liberty left him sleeping in the gargantuan guest room she'd been given.

It was best to have nothing underfoot when she baked. The girl was unsure whether or not people had "claim" to certain groceries so she steered clear of the cereals and the mountain of Pop-Tart boxes. Her focus, instead, went to making mini-quiches. She took three eggs from the top carton, believing that no one would mind since there were two other cartons to speak of. Amassing shredded cheddar cheese, parmesan cheese, salt, pepper, hot sauce, parsley, and a bowl, Liberty mixed the ingredients.

Mini-quiches were simple, cooked swiftly, and added up quickly. The lone batch she mixed in the bowl would make forty-eight mini-quiches. She topped them all with bacon bits and another helping of cheese before popping them in the oven. Everything was done with extreme quiet and caution. Liberty had no idea who would be up, where the rooms were, and how easily the children could be woken.

The twenty minute cook time was used to reflect. A few long, slow hours had passed since Fury ruined her life. Since the fire stole every remaining trace of her parents. Liberty felt suspended in time, teetering on the threshold of some awful nightmare and the hope for a better ending. Always the secret optimist and hopeless romantic, she wondered if the fire was meant to happen. Wondered if the fire could burn all the horrid memories into ash that would be swept away in the wind, leaving a finally happy head and heart in the aftermath.

"I sense collecting moisture in your tear ducts, Ms. Ramsey. May I offer you a kerchief?" inquired JARVIS. She jumped slightly as a robotic arm unfolded from a sliding panel in the ceiling to produce a kerchief clenched between thick metal plates.

"No thank you." Liberty sniffed absently, feeling sadness nibble strongly on her now that someone noticed it. Usually no one was around _to _notice it. She liked it that way. "I'm fine I just…it's a lot to take in, you know?"

"I would assume so. I cannot fully sympathize, as I was not in your position. It may enlighten you to know that Mrs. Banner also encountered hardship upon her arrival at Stark Tower. Perhaps it would alleviate your emotional burden to speak with her?"

"I—it could. Thank you, JARVIS." Liberty was never good with people. They always intimidated her one way or another. Typically it was the height, her nervousness stemming from feeling small and at their mercy as they stood perfectly normal, perfectly filled out before her. Shapely, as a regular human was (or, rather, as society wanted them to be).

More often than not her fear of putting her foot in her mouth reigned over all, causing her to shut down and just _listen_. Listening was good. Caroline liked good girls. Liberty shook her head, clawing at the towel hanging over the oven door handle. This would _not _happen to her, damnit!

She was twenty-one and left that behind her the day she graduated! It was time to be an adult, and she couldn't be an adult if she kept going back to the past! "Your cortisol levels are tremendously high, Ms. Ramsey. Shall I do something relaxing?" two gloved hands emerged from the sliding panel the kerchief-sporting hand used. The fingers flexed, controlled by a computer program. Liberty thought the offer was charming, but found the idea of a keen computer very creepy.

And she'd seen one or two television spoofs about computers going mad. She didn't want to be JARVIS' first victim in the event that three babies and a tower full of superheroes became too much to take. "You can play some music."

"Fantastic, what kind Ms. Ramsey?"

"Anything from the fifties and sixties will do. And please, call me Liberty."

"I shall try." JARVIS assured, sounding a bit hesitant to say so. He was wired to be formal, so someone deliberately requesting something technically informal was odd.

"Refer to me as Ms. Callari if you insist on a last name."

"As you wish, Ms. Callari." said JARVIS politely before softly emitting Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

"JARVIS, could you turn on the news?" whispered Liberty curiously. The fire eating away at one of Caroline Ramsey's apartment complexes surely made the news. Liberty wondered if there was anything salvageable at the site.

"Of course, Ms. Callari." a pair of headphones were given to her by the attentive robotic arm. She slipped them on her head, listening to JARVIS gently tune them to the nearest news station. At half past five there was little news to be had. Liberty heard the weather, a traffic update, and a mention of dognapping suspects being interrogated by the local police, but nothing on her apartment. Was the quiet owed to an investigation?

Liberty couldn't fathom. The redhead pulled off her earphones, needing to listen for the buzzer. "Thank you, JARVIS."

"You're quite welcome. Should I resume playing music?"

"Please."

The first batch of mini-quiches had eight minutes left to go when Captain walked in. Liberty grinned, finding his slow walk and sleepy blue eyes adorable. He yawned in response, pink tongue stretching out and curling at the end. Captain loyally flopped down beside the island in Tony's kitchen, intent to watch his little owner. His canine body disturbed him several times throughout the night, able to deduce the sounds of Thor lumbering to the bathroom, Sorrel and Julienne crying, and thumping coming from Clint and Natasha's room with shocking clarity.

He'd been woken up at four thirty by the need to pee, himself, and had found a way to maneuver his dog body above the toilet seat and relieve himself without making a mess. Steve was quite proud. His sharpening senses and soldier mind convinced him to do one quick, precautionary round on the house before drifting off to sleep again. Bruce and Coriander slept without a care, Emery trying to suck his thumb in his sleep as he snoozed on Coriander's chest, basking in the safety of Bruce's outstretched arm. Tony and Pepper slept facing a child posted on either side of the bed, but their right and left hands respectively were absent, leaving Steve to believe they were touching beneath the pillows.

Thor was safe; Steve could hear his snoring from across the house. He sniffed at the bottom of Natasha and Clint's door, wary of waking them. Their scent was strong. They were safe in bed. Young Liberty was the only one unaccounted for, and Steve panicked slightly when her donated room turned up empty.

_Where did she go? This is bad! Where has she gone? She's not supposed to leave the tower! _Steve resorted to whimpering, knowing the sound would tug on her heart. He hardly knew Liberty, but knew she would come to his aid. It was a charming quality, he thought. She'd treated him very delicately, with every ounce of care, when after returning to find his nose and paws bloody. While she carefully cleaned his wounds and complimented him, stroking the raised fur back down into its usual sleekness, Steve felt like he was the only thing in her world.

She certainly made it seem that way.

No one had ever done that before. Not until he started being Captain America. Even then, he was only loved for the propaganda. People like Bucky loved him before and after liberating that camp, but few loved him just to cuddle him and care for him. It warmed Steve to the core, Liberty's act of kindness.

"She's in the kitchen, Mr. Rogers." JARVIS informed. The AI knew it was him since Bruce took a blood sample and entered it into the house's mainframe yesterday. Fury didn't want an accident where Steve was accidentally cleaved in two by the house's protective programming. Silencing his whining, lowering his ears, Steve walked quietly to the kitchen. All was well now…he could rest.

Steve lowered himself carefully to the floor, blinking sleepily as Liberty stood before the oven. He would've loved to know her in the past. Her food was delicious, and while he understood that the army had a budget, rations, and more mouths to feed than his, he would've liked her meals. She took out a pan of flat, golden things and put another in. Curious to see what they were, Steve walked over to the counter, sniffing at the air.

His mouth watered at the smell of cheese.

"No begging!" giggled Liberty as she sat down on the floor with Captain. She rubbed his ears fondly between her fingers, giving his wet nose an Eskimo kiss. Liberty owed Captain her life. If he hadn't taken off after distributing the posters, she would've gone home. Would've died in that explosion.

"You're such a good boy, Cap." Liberty mumbled sincerely into the top of his bare, furry head. "I love you."

Steve didn't know what to think. Had Peggy ever told him that? He couldn't remember. It was totally irrational, he knew, but hearing Liberty say it did something to him. Was it because his canine body operated on the idea that she was his owner and he, her dog?

He imagined a dog would take the owner's admission of affection with the same pride and contentedness he did. But he was being hypothetical, of course. Steve didn't really try to have conversations with dogs or understand their thoughts. _You're a nice girl._ his tail wagged. It was far too early to say he loved her, but Steve could say there were things he admired about her.

Things he found likeable.

The super soldier wouldn't make any emotional decisions until he had his body back. Until he could speak thoughts with his own lips. She gave him another good scratch behind the ear before washing her hands and pulling the little quiches out of the pan. Liberty piled them on a plate, indulging in her childishness and creativity as she strived to make a pyramid. Setting six aside for herself, Liberty added the second pan to the plate ten minutes later.

She popped one in her mouth, drawing Steve's attention. He was hungry…so hungry. _Maybe if I lick your face I can get a taste. _Steve wiggled his hips, poised to jump up and surprise Liberty. Thundering steps broke his focus. A sleepy Thor staggered into the kitchen.

"What is this I smell?" he questioned, drawn in by the scent of something cooked and topped with cheese. He could've easily rolled over and returned to sleep, but the Asgardian was always hungry. Midgardian food was dishearteningly tiny in the face of his mighty appetite. Thor approached the plate of mini-quiches, eyes lighting up at the sight of food. Warm food that he didn't have to fight the toaster for!

"They're mini-quiches." replied Liberty, plucking a few more from the pyramid before the large blonde dug in. He wasn't salivating, but something in his eyes told Liberty that the pyramid would be short-lived.

"They are diminutive indeed. May I try one?"

"Go ahead. I'm not stopping you." Liberty gestured to the pyramid, giving a small laugh. Admittedly, she'd made them to sate a craving. There was no way she could eat the full forty-eight alone. Thor stuffed one in his mouth, chewing. It was small, slightly crunchy, warm, and wonderfully packed with cheese.

"Another!" he boomed excitedly, finding the quiche fit to snack on. It would hardly curb his appetite, but it was a start. He cleared his throat, blushing slightly. Sometimes habits of Asgard faded slowly. "I shall have another." Thor announced.

_Have another and toss one to me! _Steve issued a soft _woof_! as he revolved between stretching down into his front paws and standing up impatiently. Thor would surely throw him one, right? He had to after their teamwork in the Chitauri invasion! Why…it was un-American to starve him! "Honey, do whatever you want. I'm going back to bed."

"Sleep well, Lady Ramsey. Julienne and Sorrel will rise within the hour. You may have no sleep at all!" Thor warned.

"I'll take what I can get." mumbled Liberty airily as she trudged back to her bedroom. Sleep eluded her as she thought of smoldering ash and irretrievable cookbooks with her mother's original notes. The pain nearly suffocated her. Liberty tossed for an hour and a half. She angrily kicked her feet over the side of the bed, frowning deeply at her rumpled, day-old clothes.

There was a silver lining somewhere. Why couldn't she feel it? Liberty was alive, had shelter, and could safely say she had some of the best guards on the planet. And yet…she couldn't smile. Couldn't find an iota of happiness to warm her from the inside out.

A deep, persistent knocking pulled her from disappointing thoughts. She cautiously crept to the door, surprised JARVIS was so quiet. Shouldn't he be announcing the approach of her housemates? Maybe he was busy with the other members who were surely roused by that heavy knocking.

"Thor, stop it!" she could hear a woman hiss.

"Lady Stark, forgive me, but I refuse to eat Natasha's offering. _That _is meant for a bilgesnipe!"

"You're just mad because she cooks in smaller portions. And doesn't slay a pig for you at every meal."

"Your accusations are false, Lady Stark! Though I miss the hearty meals of Asgard, I remain most concerned about the black layer of bitter crustiness about her meals."

"That was _one time_, Thor. She had to figure out how to use the pans. And the stove. Cooking alongside JARVIS can mess up the natural rhythm of things!"

"Be that as it may, I have sampled young Ms. Ramsey's cooking and wish to have more."

"You are such a child!" huffed Pepper. Liberty smiled, recognizing Thor's haughty snort. The idle squawk of a baby drifted under the door.

"Nay, I am not a child! I am a king! King of Asgard!"

"What can I get you, King of Asgard?" Liberty poked her head out the door, scaring them both. A dark-haired baby dressed in pink giggled at the surprise. Her toothless smile was contagious and Liberty soon found herself grinning despite the fatigue. The exhaustion of knowing her adulthood and independence had been shattered by fire. Thor flashed her a bright, boyish smile as Pepper rolled her eyes and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Liberty." she apologized. "Did you sleep well?"

"No, and I never do on the first night." Liberty admitted, giving them a close-lipped, crooked smile.

"I can chase Thor off if you want? It sounds like you need to sleep." Pepper moved Sorrel up higher on her hip, admiring Liberty's coherency and energy.

"No, no. It's fine!" Liberty assured. "I'm ready to work! What can I do to…you know, not mooch? Am I being too forward? I'm sorry. Lack of sleep makes me a bit hyper but I promise I'm functional." fatigue and sadness were understandable, given her current situation, but such emotions could not be processed by her mind. With her body running on wisps of sleep, she seemed to find that silver lining she sought. It was a blissful euphoria that would only last for her first day in Stark Tower.

"I would suggest partaking in breakfast so that news may spread of your wondrous edible creations." Thor smiled, arms folded casually behind his back. Pepper eyed him as if to say 'really? You're not fooling anyone. You just want more food.' and Thor looked to the left, creating the perfect picture of being unaware.

"I can do that!" Liberty smiled at him. "And I will! Do you think I could borrow some clothes until I get these washed?" she pulled slightly at her old clothes. Liberty was sure they were a bit stale since she'd skated in them yesterday.

"You don't have to wash those, Liberty!" Pepper shook her head and clucked her tongue like she was talking to a child. What kind of guest would Liberty be if she needed to clean her own clothes? Being a woman, Pepper couldn't let Liberty walk around in old clothes, anyways. It was just a pitiable sin and would seem cold-hearted if she didn't get a chance to replace her wardrobe. "I'll see if I can find you something to wear until we go shopping."

"Shopping? Like, together?"

"Of course! We'll bring Cori along and it'll be girl time!" Pepper grinned at the thought. Coriander didn't actually shop that much, nor did she have expensive taste. Pepper could do without the finery, and rarely splurged unless Tony demanded it, but looked forward to the outing all the same. It would add an element of normality to her life that Kleiser and the Chitauri almost destroyed.

"Isn't there another girl here?" Liberty inquired, feeling a bit stupid for asking. Yesterday went by so fast. The day was crazy enough for her to believe she was dreaming. Was the kitchen stocked with eight chairs or was she delusional? She didn't remember seeing eight people yesterday, but definitely understood.

If Fury had been stalking through the halls of _her _apartment she would've hid, too.

"Yes, her name's Natasha. We invite her but she doesn't really _do_ girl time. She likes to find the knife shops." explained Pepper.

"And you may learn more about friend Natasha at the breakfast table." Thor placed a hand softly on Liberty's tiny back as he guided both women towards the kitchen. He ignored Pepper's snort as the hallway opened up into the living room and led to the kitchen situated on the left. Tony's back was to them, identified by his wild hair as he mixed baby food.

"Wait here, Liberty. I'll go find you something to wear." Pepper pinched her shoulder comfortingly. Feeling obviously misplaced, Liberty just stood where Pepper left her. An older man with dark, curly hair fed his son from a high-chair as the woman beside him deposited a steaming cup of tea near his plate. Captain avidly circled a redhead and brunette at the stove, hoping for dropped morsels. Thor shooed the two from the stove, beckoning Liberty with a wave of his large hand.

She became very aware of people watching her. Some stared harder than others, but she could _feel _them. With JARVIS' guidance she found the remaining stash of pans. Liberty took the pan with remains of pancake off the stove and set it in the sink as she looked around. Her earlier craving had been taken care of and now she wasn't quite sure what to make.

At times like this she simply looked around her cooking space until something jumped out at her. Today that ingredient was bread. Her mind drifted to French toast that would get a creative twist. Most of the occupants in Stark Tower were men; men had appetites. Thor especially, and she'd unintentionally been given the challenge of stuffing him.

She liked challenges.

Bruce chuckled as Thor loomed over Liberty, watching like an excited child about to receive a present. One silent, doe-eyed gaze had him retreating. The Asgardian was only slightly aware that he dwarfed and boxed the young chef in. "Are you allergic to-?"

"He eats anything." Natasha cut in, stealing a section of the morning paper Coriander finished.

"Okay, well, that takes care of him. What do you guys want?" Liberty turned to face the cluttered table as silence set in. The residents of Stark Tower weren't strangers to such generous offers, but weren't sure what to think when one came from inside the house. Usually citizens and the senator only gave them such warm recognition. It wasn't totally foreign – because Steve showed similar consideration – but Liberty's waiting gaze had them feeling blown away. She was young, from a wealthy family, and had recently been forced from her home, and yet she wanted to make _breakfast_?

Natasha couldn't decide whether to admire her guts or be suspicious. Quite a speedy recovery for the victim, wasn't it?

"Make me whatever you want. Just don't use cream cheese." Clint spoke up, breaking the silence. "I hate it."

"I'll take something spicy." said Coriander, looking over her shoulder.

"I'm good." Bruce promised, having eaten a bowl of oatmeal shortly before Emery woke up.

"I'm on a liquid diet." Tony joked, sipping coffee as he scraped the bowl to feed Julienne his last bite of cereal and pears.

"One egg over easy with toast and a side of bacon. Crispy." replied Natasha coolly, trying to seem amiable. It was hard to do since her assassin mind held so many red flags. Liberty's story was tragic, but how was it she'd survived? Was she really a victim? Her judgment of Liberty would start with how the girl handled breakfast.

She would have to earn her trust just like Coriander did.

Liberty grouped peanut butter, brown sugar, butter, one banana, orange juice, milk, four eggs, and several spices on the counter. The brunette's breakfast required nothing more than peanut butter and bananas so Liberty cooked his first. Caramelizing the banana pieces in cinnamon, butter, and orange juice, she began to lay out the other sandwiches. She flipped them after a minute, locating plates with JARVIS' help. A layer of napkins protected the vulnerable paper plate from the hot pieces as she grilled two pieces of toast.

Clint was mildly surprised to find a peanut butter-banana French toast meal placed before him. He wasn't sure what to expect when she offered, but found it to be a rather nice change from Steve's usual routine of eggs, toast, and meat. Liberty used a second pan to cook one egg spiced with cayenne pepper and cheese as the bread cooked. Another pan filled with enough bacon to feed the last three waiting on her sizzled nearby. She cooked every piece of bacon crispy – who _didn't _love crispy bacon? – and set it aside as she spooned a sloppily rolled omelet-like piece onto another slice of French toast.

The bacon crunched beneath a French toast top, but that was to be expected. She passed it off to the young woman before starting on Thor's French toast. His was nearly the same, except she avoided hot spices and scrambled his egg instead of leaving it to cook flatly. It oozed cheese and bits of fractured bacon as she compressed it. Natasha didn't know whether to applaud Liberty's swiftness, her calm, and correct orders or to be annoyed by them.

She sincerely hoped the girl didn't turn out to be one of those softies that radiated love and sweetness and made her gag. If that was the case, well…she'd rather spend a day with Coriander's sister Honey! _At least she's keeping the men quiet_. Natasha rolled her eyes, trying to think positively of the odd situation as she cut into her egg. "You make such a good little maid!" teased Tony, pinching Liberty's cheek between his thumb and index finger. Liberty snorted, after balling up the napkins used to wipe down the counter.

His wit was fantastic but his comments left something to be desired. She still owed him for that Annie comment yesterday. "It's my job, right?" Liberty smiled politely, as she'd been taught to do by her grandmother, and motioned for his coffee cup. He seemed to be downing it like water, but she assumed it was normal since no one else commented on it. "Have to make sure you keep me!" added Liberty with the slightest hint of dryness in her voice as JARVIS refilled the coffee automatically.

A collection of spices remained on the counter, the only things still out from her French toast adventure. JARVIS made black coffee, adding no cream or sugar. Tony obviously liked his coffee black. Well…it was fixing to be black with a few _funny _additives. Only because Tony had made such a _hilarious_ comment about the irony of her situation.

"Funny, right?" he'd said. This was sure to be funny.

"What are you doing?" Tony asked, keeping his eye on Julienne. Liberty was taking her time handing him his coffee. Not that he minded. He wasn't exactly _demanding _it, but he noticed. Somehow…Julienne made a worthy distraction as he tried to grab everyone's food and the decorative flowers Pepper kept on the table.

"Putting up the rest of the spices." answered Liberty, toning down her instinctual saccharine response. Natasha knew that was a lie but didn't call her out on it. Stark needed to be knocked down every once in a while. She liked that the girl was defending herself, even if she was a day late on the retaliation. Quiet, seemingly innocent, and innovative…she'd make a good agent.

Washing off a fork, she used it to stir the coffee. It was hard to stir without touching the cup, but she managed it. "Here you go, Mr. Stark."

"Formal…I like it. You're an angel, half-pint." he winked at her. Liberty refrained from wrinkling her nose. Tony's use of the pet name was deliberate. She turned around, wanting to have her hands full when Tony tasted the awful drink. Allspice, apple pie spice, cinnamon, and ground cardamom likely made a terribly combination.

Tony spit the mouthful out immediately, but it was too late. His mouth was coated in the mess. Julienne laughed at his horribly scrunched expression, interpreting his protruding tongue as the beginning of a raspberry blowing contest. Bruce chuckled as Tony shook his head violently and pushed the cup away. "Evil woman." he frowned, smacking his lips.

"I don't think so. It's _funny_, right? Just like the other day with my 'rich-to-richer' story?"

"JARVIS, could you escort Ms. Ramsey to the cleaning supplies? I'd like to see my bedroom polished and dusted this afternoon."

"Right away, sir."

"Don't be a bad sport, Tony." chided Bruce. "It's all in good fun. Right Liberty?"

"Of course! Why would I want anything else for the _charming _and _considerate _Mr. Stark?"

"Clean. Now." Tony frowned at her, looking like a reprimanded child more than a boss. Smirking, chuckling a quiet, throaty cackle that belied her petite form, Liberty bowed to Tony before following JARVIS out of the kitchen.

"She owned you, dude." laughed Clint.

"Nay, Clint. Pepper owns him. She is his wife."

"…never mind, Thor. Just be amused. Stark was pranked."

"It was indeed enjoyable." agreed Thor, smiling. He'd just finished his French toast and found the creation delectable with maple syrup.

"Liberty? Sorry it took so long! It may be weird, but I found some of Tony's old—where's Liberty?" Pepper strode into the room with a white robe clutched in one fist.

"Tony chased her away because she spiked his coffee." Natasha informed, the smallest of smirks on her face.

"Oh Tony!"

"No 'Oh Tony!' Not when you're angry, at least." sniffed Stark. "I had a good reason. Fury's coming over. There's been some developments in the investigation."

The room quieted.

"I take it they're not good." Bruce deduced from Tony's unwavering expression and frowned into his teacup, swallowing the last of chamomile tea. Fury would be here soon to accept those evaluations Tony never sent in. He'd want to see progress on Steve's condition, too. "To the lab, Steve." Banner straightened up before putting his dishes in the sink. He kissed his wife and son prior to leading Steve into the labs.

* * *

"You're sure Ramsey's occupied, Stark?"

"Do you doubt my ability to keep people busy, Nick?"

"Not in the slightest, Tony." Fury snorted lightly. If there was anyone more capable of keeping Liberty out of earshot, he didn't know them. Tony had single-handedly caught the army's curiosity in his first Iron Man suit. And the world's attention when he admitted to _being_ Iron Man later that year. It was nothing short of a field day.

"So what's up, Mom?"

"Trouble is 'what's up'." Fury frowned. Tony could actually see his lips turning down slightly. Very rarely had he seen Fury break his stoic face.

"And the Avengers need to fix it? Where do we need to go?"

"The Avengers need to stay put. The trouble is right under your nose."

"You don't mean…?"

"Liberty? No. But she'll attract it."

"What are we dealing with, here? Crazy ex-boyfriend? Fellow rich kid she ignored at a gala?"

"One falsely concerned grandmother, at least."

Fury produced a DVD, effectively silencing further questions as he wiggled it impatiently. This was Stark's house. He didn't have the time to learn it in and out, but knew the genius billionaire had a way to read disks. A way that wasn't Coriander Banner. The information was the beginning of a thorough investigation and would be damaging if known by many.

The Ramsey family was not what it seemed, apparently. Being careless with his discovery could cause lawsuits. "Insert the disk, JARVIS."

"Right away, sir." a claw dangled from the ceiling; it plucked the disk from Fury's fingers before sliding smoothly to the mounted flat screen. Anything electric, technological, and pricey had wall-fastened pedestals now. Purely a measure in child safety. The AI activated the DVD player and entered the disk.

"Walk me through this. It has no audio." Tony squinted at the colored footage. He couldn't tell if it was a bank or a law firm. Their view started immediately from the inside, giving him no clue to the establishment's title. An old woman with a beautifully, perfectly dark perm of curls breezed through the lobby dressed in black heels and red suit and skirt. She walked until the camera lost sight of her.

The DVD picked up seconds later, footage showing her walking down a corridor, past several rooms, and into the last door on the right. She sat with a white-haired man and began to talk.

"This is Liberty's paternal grandmother, Caroline Ramsey."

"And?"

"See anything suspicious, Stark?"

"Not with the quality of this video, no."

"True. Let me fill you in: Mrs. Ramsey is trying to get money Liberty's parents left her in a self-proved will. She's not out there asking investigators about the building remains or the chance of her granddaughter getting blown sky-high, only to miraculously survive and land in some sort of amnesiac state."

"That _is_ strange. She'd have to have indisputable proof that Liberty was dead in order to get the money."

"Exactly." Fury nodded. "It seems I was wrong about Steve being the target."

Tony felt the nasty blend of spices and coffee soak his mouth. The disgust intensified as he began to understand the purpose of Caroline Ramsey's visit. "You think she tried to murder her own granddaughter for the inheritance?"

"I know so. I pulled some strings and got a copy of the will _myself_. Since February 16th, 1991, Liberty Bell Ramsey has been the sole beneficiary of Janice and Alexander Ramsey's fifteen billion dollars."

"I know she's from money. My dad used to employ her mom half the time, if you were unaware. How does her grandma fit into this?"

"The money was meant to be dispersed within the Ramsey-Callari family in the event that something happened to Liberty. She was born prematurely and, as such, faced a myriad of health problems. Her parents thought it useful and fair to leave it to someone else in case she didn't make it. If she didn't make it to her eighteenth birthday, the money would first be given to her immediate caretakers and then to the remaining relatives."

"Which would've been grandma, am I right?"

"You are. Liberty made it to eighteen. The only way that money could be dispersed now is if she died. Liberty has no will of her own so the language of the standing will would still have money going to her most-recent caretakers."

"Meaning grandma is still eligible."

"Correct."

"So what do you want us to do? Keep her under wraps? What are you trying to prove here, Fury?"

"I think Caroline Ramsey is related to the string of dognapping cases."

"I know old people love animals, but seriously? Why?"

"I'm still asking myself that."

"What proof do you have?"

"A masked man was seen fleeing the apartment complex mere days before this explosion." said Fury. The DVD jumped to a view of Liberty's once-standing apartment. "Can you verbally pause this?"

"Yes."

"Good. I think you'll want to see this next part." Fury waited patiently as the tape continued to roll. "Pause." he ordered sharply, clearly. JARVIS froze the tape. An image of a white dog lunging at the man lit the television.

"That's Steve!"

"It is. And that man's dressed exactly like the ones arrested at the warehouse. I think the incidents are related because of their proximity in the recent explosion of crimes. It may seem like a stretch, but it's one I'd be willing to defend. Why is it Caroline Ramsey didn't say anything about someone trying to rob her illustrious complex?"

"She could be hiding bad press, but you're right. Something's wrong here. You'd have to be an idiot not to report that, especially if the victim was your own granddaughter."

"You'd either be an idiot or a coconspirator." Fury looked to Tony with his one good eye. Tony frowned.

"Forgive me for intruding. Ms. Ramsey is coming." JARVIS announced.

"Thank you JARVIS. Shut it off and eject the disk, please."

"I'm done, Mr. Stark." Liberty grinned proudly. She wasn't totally sweaty, but she was definitely heated. Polishing and dusting, though simple, was a decent workout. Especially when she was short and most of Tony's possessions were anchored at various heights along the wall.

"Fantastic, half-pint. You're pretty efficient. I may have to give you more to clean." joked Tony.

"Great! I can think up new coffee blends for you to taste while I work." Liberty shot back good-naturedly, grinning broadly. She was clearly still proud of her victory in the kitchen. Tony awarded her a sarcastic chuckle, turning back to Fury. The two men listened to Liberty chortle before walking from the room, likely seeking a shower or food.

"Do you have the evaluations, Mr. Stark?"

"Bruce does. He's tweaking them in the lab. And trying to help Steve."

"Good. I'll take what you have today and come back next week for detailed training schedules and a synopsis of house activity. You're to keep a lookout for any unusual characters, events, or items that cross your path. Am I clear?"

"Of course." Tony nodded. It was a fairly simple request. The looking out part was, anyways. "Why the extra paperwork?"

"I have a feeling we're about to bust open something much bigger than a dognapping ring and exploding buildings. Staying on top of the paperwork will give me less of a headache."

"What about _our _headache? We'll be the ones fighting this."

"Steve will be fighting more than you so I wouldn't be complaining, Stark."

"Touché." mumbled Tony as Fury receded, leaving only a comment for company. Steve was willing to jump in first now more so than ever because he had no children to stay home and defend. This _thing _– whatever Fury stumbled upon – would have Steve's full attention. Liberty's apartment had been blown up, Bruce thought Steve had been attacked (by the running man, Tony thought after seeing the video), and the danger was still present. On a personal and moral level, Steve would be _beyond_ pissed.

Tony would only complain for the people Steve bludgeoned along the way. It was very likely they wouldn't be able to speak when he was done. The super soldier was too involved in this to go out quietly. Fury was right in thinking something would bust open. Stark could only wonder if the thing busting open would be a lip, liver, or a lung.

* * *

"This is the best I can do right now. Obviously, this is a prototype. I mean…I made it out of reverse-wired baby monitors enhanced by JARVIS' technology. The blood is a mix of Coriander's and Steve's. It allows him to digitally vocalize his thoughts."

"Impressive, Dr. Banner. When can you make an antidote?"

"It depends on how much time I can make to research his condition. Depending on the amount of help and time I receive, I'd say two weeks at the earliest. A month at the latest. I'll be pulling long hours either way."

"The team appreciates your efforts." Fury nodded to him. It was the biggest sign of gratitude he could offer in his busy state.

"I'd appreciate your parenting if you could get Emery's finger out of my eyelid." the quiet voice said, a mix of Steve Rogers and JARVIS. Bruce grinned apologetically, reaching for his enthralled son. Steve captivated the children in his human form and it only made sense that his canine body would do the same. Emery gave his father a warning squawk, burrowing his fingers tighter into the silky, short hair of the interesting creature. The young Banner used Steve as a crutch, holding one ear and one eyebrow-eye space to support himself.

Steve made himself comfortable on the lab floor after breakfast. Bruce didn't want him going far since he had to whip up something to appease Fury. The idea came from his want – and Hulk's – to understand Emery. His son was always cooing gibberish and babbling to himself; the only time they really knew what he wanted was when he latched onto someone. When he did that, he wanted to be held.

When he made pawing motions while babbling, he wanted Hulk. The desire to decode baby-speak got Bruce thinking about animals. They were as hard for adults to understand as children. His thoughts then went to Steve. It had taken nearly two and a half hours, but he made a decent prototype that would suffice until Steve's body was restored.

Pepper and Coriander joined him shortly after breakfast, too. Fury didn't do well with children and they figured Dog Steve would occupy them. They were right. Steve had been climbed on, drooled on, sloppy kissed, pinched, tugged, gummed on, and invaded by tiny fingers. He stayed strong like a good soldier should.

Until one of them bit his tail. His loud yelp startled the children and they began to cry as a trio. Feeling embarrassed, hoping Bruce wouldn't be set off, he went to quickly licking them all in the face. It made the kids suck in air and giggle. One of them kissed him back, but he wasn't sure which one because his attention was being splintered between the pinching, drooling, and loud babbling by his ears.

_Kids are great_, Steve shifted carefully. After two hours of thorough study by the "Future Defenders in Diapers", the kids had tired themselves out. Julienne and Sorrel collapsed atop his side, curling into his stomach. Steve molded around them, providing a soft cocoon of fur and warmth. Emery fought sleep and was exhausting the last of his energy with the task of standing.

He was more than happy to fall into Bruce's arms. All of that standing, grabbing, and feeling was hard work.

"Shoot for two weeks, Dr. Banner." whispered Fury. He clearly didn't intend on staying long. Fury was the director of SHIELD for a reason: interaction with smart, capable people. Not children who could be set off like landmines.

"I will, Director Fury." Fury gave them both one last nod before quietly departing. He walked back in seconds later, an unconscious Liberty draped in his arms. Bruce jumped into alertness, accidentally startling the whiny Emery. "What happened?!"

"She tried to sneak up on me. It's a reflex."

"With _what_? How could she sneak up on you?"

"I guess she thought it would be funny to blind me with a towel since I only have one eye. Tell her she was mistaken when she wakes up." Fury laid her on a smaller table; her dripping and slightly tangled hair wet Steve's fur from above. The smell of lavender and peppermint consumed his canine nose. Directory Fury left without a word, intending to make it down the hall without another ambush. Bruce checked her for bruises, finding only half-formed finger impressions near the left side of her neck. He'd used only enough force to knock her unconscious, Bruce noted.

"If anyone had doubts about her fitting in, I'd say she's on her way." Bruce mused.

"What do you mean, Doctor?" Steve's clunky but useful collar asked for him. He could hear the computerized voice converter humming in his ears. Feel the blood needed to operate the vocal conversions whistle through the thin plastic tubes concealed within. The invention was a culmination of Bruce's intelligence, blood, metal, and plastic.

"Only the Avengers annoy Fury. She just tried to surprise him with a _towel_."

"Liberty's just creative." Steve defended.

"She's special." Bruce chuckled. The French toast creations were further evidence supporting his opinion.

"Yeah. She is." Steve wagged his tail.


	5. The Cost of Freedom

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Drachegirl14, champagne mocha, and blown-transistor for reviewing. I realize I should leave more time to review, but I've rekindled my love for this story somehow. I think the approaching school semester did it…and writing cute-as-a-button Steve is just so darn fun!

To champagne mocha: Fury's involved because Steve was a casualty. And they THINK it's dognapping-centered, but it isn't. Can't give out much more than that because it'll ruin future chapters.

**Warning: **this story will have dark undertones, so if you're uncomfortable with mentions of emotional issues, abuse, and imperfect homes, you've been warned. These warnings go into effect NOW.

* * *

Four: The Cost of Freedom

"Again, Pepper, it's a gracious offer but I'd rather not go out." Liberty declined the invitation to shop.

"You can't walk around in Tony's old robe forever!" she smiled, lines concealing a few freckles. Liberty blushed, fingering the fine cotton of a robe from Tony's younger years. She assumed it was from his pre-teen days; anything larger would've swallowed her.

"I realize this, but…"

"Pepper, can I speak with you?" Tony looked to his wife, calling her with a hand. Thankful for the distraction, Liberty resumed washing pans. It only seemed fair that she do them; she'd been the one to make breakfast. Thor was the only one with a complaint about pancakes for breakfast, finding it bland and simple versus yesterday's treat. He appreciated the breakfast, trying his best not to look like a sad child, but pinned Liberty with those blue eyes until she made bacon and eggs.

The room was oddly quiet without Pepper and Tony. Captain sat patiently beside her, blue eyes watching each dish and pan dry on a nearby towel. "She's just trying to be helpful." said Captain. _Steve_, mentally corrected Liberty as she looked down at him. He didn't look anything like Captain America. Sure he had pale fur and blue eyes, but…it was weird to think of him as anything other than her dog!

"I…I know." Liberty bit her lip slightly. It would be fun to go out, to shop with people who had unbiased opinions and actually stopped to appreciate the clothes, but she couldn't do it. After three years of shopping alone, and a childhood with Caroline Ramsey, she wasn't used to such welcoming company. Aside from that, she couldn't risk anyone finding out what hid beneath her clothes. Her figure was obvious – Liberty was short, petite, sported A-cup breasts, and had a tapered waist that caused her hips to round out robustly atop shapely legs – but her secrets were not.

No one had seen her naked, and no one ever would. Her last doctor visit was at the age of seven. Caroline had money, but couldn't afford to take her to doctors. Such a discovery would ruin the golden illusion that was the Ramsey family. "Are you worried people will make fun of you for being small?" wondered Steve, cocking his canine head to the left as he gazed at her. "You shouldn't be; you're a peach!"

She blushed, partly from flattery and partly from surprise. Dogs weren't supposed to talk, but she was glad Captain could. It was like making a friend without all of the anxiety. He had sweet things to say, and it was cuter coming from such an adorable dog. Her white cheeks darkened slightly.

He made her blush! "Red, white, and blue are my favorite colors, you know. Oh crap…that was supposed to be a thought! And that! And that!"

Her blush faded, giggling dispersing the blood in her cheeks. "Cute, stammering dogs are my favorite, you know." teased Liberty as she flicked water off her hands and dried them. Steve gave a light _woof! _that sufficed as the canine version of throat clearing. Pepper breezed back in, smile twitching on her lips.

"You okay, Pepper?" Steve inquired.

"Fine," she promised. "And…Liberty, if you don't want to go clothes shopping, that's fine." Liberty tried to hide the flinch as Pepper gently touched her shoulder, wincing when she couldn't disguise her tension. If Pepper couldn't feel the locked muscles beneath her fingers, she could surely see Liberty's raised shoulders. Pepper proposed the shopping trip in effort to ease Liberty back into normality and dull the shock, but didn't think about her comfort level. The girl was largely an introvert, Pepper thought.

She would take longer to coax out of the house than Cori. Pepper felt prepared, though, having spent time with Bruce. Steve's canine eyes drilled straight through her, blue orbs attentive and questioning. His focus was sharp and consuming, strong enough to stifle any coherent thoughts. Tony convinced her to leave Liberty in the house for the sake of some SHIELD investigation she didn't quite understand.

Steve had the feeling something was up. His keen mind could sense ulterior motive. Being in the army taught him to read people, to trust his gut, and his gut was currently clenching uncomfortably. Liberty felt her eyebrows lifting into her hairline. Pepper sure gave _that _up easily!

"Thank you." Liberty smiled. The explosion was fresh and startling. Going out likely meant being swarmed by reporters, which she didn't think she could handle at the moment.

"But you _do_ need clothes. Can I get your measurements? I know you're tiny and all, but I need them. It'll cut down on the returns and such."

"Can we do them over my clothes? I don't really feel comfortable with…you know…" Liberty rolled her hand awkwardly, wishing her cheeks wouldn't cramp with heat. Pepper gave the smallest of amused smiles. According to Tony, Liberty was in her early twenties, and came off as shy about her bourgeoning independence and womanhood. She seemed to be quite the wallflower.

"Not a problem! Follow me; while we walk I can get an idea of what colors and patterns you like."

"Can I come, too? Women shouldn't walk alone!" Steve felt like he was being abandoned. Pepper was suddenly swooping in and stealing Liberty away!

"C'mon, Steve!" Pepper chuckled. After Coriander's wedding – and her own – they'd designated a room for special eveningwear. In that same room were instruments essential to clothes: pins, an excess of pantyhose, and tape measurers. Steve told himself that he was along strictly for their protection. That was a lie.

Part of him wanted to watch Pepper assess Liberty's figure. The tape measure would act as the perfect cinch to her dainty waist. Liberty was tiny, like he had been, and Steve found it adorable. She had the narrow waist that 1940's fashion highlighted. He would've been over the moon for her.

Liberty was perfect for the Steve he'd been, the Steve with an avian chest and long arms. Steve thought she could've been a pinup with those wild curls and big eyes.. She could've easily been _his _pinup. He turned to watch Pepper delicately maneuver her, amazed that his thoughts hadn't given him away. Even if his collar _had _said something, it would've gone unnoticed.

They were buried in a conversation of colors, fabric, and preferences. Pepper released her ten minutes later. "Okay, so I'll grab Cori and hunt you some clothes. We'll be back in about an hour, alright?"

"Sounds good! Let me know what I owe you."

"You're not paying, Liberty. It's not right."

"Well…" Liberty flushed, touched by Pepper's generosity. Her mom had also been unblinkingly kind. She'd forgotten what it was like to interact with nice people. "I have to thank you somehow!" insisted Liberty, imbued with the standards and habits of her parents. "What if I make you a pie? Something with mint and chocolate?"

"Ugh, temptress! My _thighs _will thank you for that." Pepper rolled her eyes amusedly as Liberty chuckled.

"Pep_per_!" Steve tucked his nose between his front paws. He did _not _need to hear about her body! It'd be his luck that Tony would hear about this and seek playful revenge once he turned human again.

"Sorry, sorry! I'm gone. No more awkward talk!" she promised. Steve and Liberty watched her retreat. They stood in silence, surrounded by glittering dresses and dashing suits. Liberty padded softly around the room, taking in the variety of mannequins. The biggest one belonged to Thor, she thought, and the sheer size of it stunned her.

"I could use this as a parachute." she joked dryly, smoothing her hands curiously across the pressed suit. Thor liked to wear armor from his homeland. Liberty couldn't imagine him in something as soft as the suit.

"This one's mine!" Steve bolted over to a navy blue suit, nipping at the sleeve excitedly. He wanted her to touch _his_ suit like that. Steve wanted to drink in her soft surprise, too. Liberty took on a dreamy quality as she skirted her fingers across the clothes, clearly lost in her thoughts, and it made each motion seem all the more tender. She couldn't help but smile at the color.

It matched his eyes.

"It's nice." Liberty complimented, absently fixing the slight skew to the shoulders caused by Steve's – Captain's? Was it okay to call him Captain anymore? – nipping. His mannequin dwarfed her, too. Steve's tail wagged; his inner male and Human Steve approved of her comment.

"Thank you." Steve's tail beat against the floor.

"I need to start on that cake." mumbled Liberty absently, more to herself than anything.

"I'll come with!" Steve turned on his paws excitedly, bringing up the rear as they marched through the automatic door. "You need someone to keep Thor out of the kitchen, anyways." Liberty laughed.

"What a sweet thought! I don't think you can stand between a man _that _size and his food, though."

"You'd be surprised." Steve parked by the island as Liberty combed the pantry and upper cabinets for ingredients. "Most of my scrapping days involved men larger than myself." he straightened, as if slightly proud of that, and Liberty turned to look at him. His voice was soft, almost comical, but his eyes were like fire-baked sapphires. Passion and determination painted the depths of his eyes. It was the perfect picture of smoldering eyes.

She shivered slightly.

"Maybe you really _are _Captain America," she teased, "I don't know many people who use the phrase 'scrapping days'."

"Nothing wrong with being old-fashioned!" Steve used the oven's pull bar to support his front paws. The scent of chocolate, cocoa powder, and mints beckoned him. "This smells good." Steve nosed the glass peppermint extract bottle away from the edge. "You should make pie! I love pie!"

"We are to have pie? Pray tell, which flavoring will the Midgardian confection hold?" Thor grinned brightly and boyishly as he strolled into the kitchen. Liberty couldn't help but laugh, feeling the kitchen shrink steadily as she tried to cook. He _would _be able to hear that with unerring clarity, wouldn't he?

"We're not having pie. I'm making a mint chocolate cake for Pepper." she explained, standing on a lower shelf of the pantry to retrieve a bottle of Pam. Steve wasn't too happy with the idea of her dangling from the wooden shelves like a monkey – as fortified as they may be – and hesitated with running forward or staying put. The soldier and man in him wanted to contain the situation, to decrease the likelihood of injury.

"In honor of what?"

"Nothing, really. Well, she's going to get me clothes…but you don't really need a reason to have dessert!" Liberty shrugged, combining eggs and chocolate cake mix. Her mother never needed a reason to bake. Sometimes it was nice just to have a treat sitting out. It created an inviting atmosphere of quaintness.

"I agree. May I hug thee, Liberty? Your logic delights me so." she yelped as Thor scooped her up, pressing her back to his chest. He hugged her gently, aware of how his large Asgardian hands could crush her body. Liberty sighed in defeat, letting the shock run through her in dying waves as Thor tickled her with his beard. Steve let out a warning yowl, none too happy with Thor. People on Asgard put little thought into merriment and affection, but that couldn't be done without social consequences on Earth.

Thor couldn't just hug _anyone_ here! There were rules and boundaries to respect! But he was hugging Liberty, swinging her to and fro like he was rocking a child to sleep, and Steve didn't know what to think. Couldn't figure out how to feel. That was _his _owner – _acquaintance_, Steve corrected himself. He wasn't actually a dog and, therefore, he had no owner! - and he'd known her first!

"Alright, now, put me down. I can't cook from up here!" Liberty hoped Thor had been distracted enough with food to realize her body was semi-curled in his arms. She didn't like people approaching her from behind. It was a reflex to brace herself against them. Thor chuckled, watching her smooth the chocolaty mixture in a glass pan before putting it in the oven. He was still learning about Midgardian appliances and processes, but knew that meant cake would be unavailable for a while.

"I shall train and return to celebrate with your treat." Thor grinned. If he _happened _to finish training before Pepper arrived, _happened _to eat a generous amount, it could be blamed on his rigorous training.

"It's scary how affectionate you guys are." Steve heard her mumble as she washed the wooden spoon and went to mixing something tinted with green food coloring.

"All men love a gal who can cook. Keeps them from killing themselves!" joked Steve. That's how it was in the forties, anyways. Men were safer with women's cooking than they ever were with their own. A starlet smile and shapely body was always attractive, but a good meal would keep the men coming back.

"You're a superhero, make a pretty decent pup, and could manage as a stand-up comic. Is there anything you _can't _do?"

"Open doors." said Steve instantly. "Not right now, anyways…" he figured the question was rhetorical, but couldn't help himself. The inability to move smoothly in Stark Tower was frustrating. JARVIS was often busy with Stark and the twins, meaning someone would have to come to his aid. Paws couldn't grip handles and activate door sliding mechanism like thumbs or a human body.

Liberty rubbed her foot along his stomach, boosting Steve's mood. Scratching was always good. He lowered himself to the floor slightly, shimmying down her foot until she reached that itchy spot in his upper chest.

"You can't eat chocolate, either." she mused. He shot up, ears raised high at either side of his head. Liberty giggled, unable to help it. His expression – wide eyed, brows furrowed in confusion, ears raised high enough to nearly stand upright – was priceless. "Hey, where are you going? I thought you were keeping Thor out of the kitchen?!"

"Need to see Dr. Banner!" Steve zipped towards the labs.

* * *

_"And it's just _incredibly _heartbreaking! It's not what you want to hear after returning from vacation._" Caroline Ramsey blubbered, dabbing at her eyes. Tony grunted at the TV in the lab as Bruce followed up with a similar note of skepticism.

"Notice how she's not actually crying?" Tony circled her brown eyes with an imaginary pen. Caroline's eyes were glossy, and twinkled in the lighting of a talk show, but weren't red-rimmed as they should be.

"Yep. Any normal human being would be crying at the loss." Bruce pushed his glasses up on his nose, looking down to Steve's blood sample again. "Providing that they had a good relationship, of course." he added. He couldn't and wouldn't cry over his father. His mother, yes, but not his father.

"She's good." conceded Tony.

"I still think you're jumping the gun." Bruce smiled. "I don't really see the connection between her grandma and the building blowing up."

"Fury _did _tell you what he found, right? I wasn't the only one?"

"Of course, but that doesn't mean she wants Liberty killed."

"It doesn't sit right with me, Bruce."

"This has nothing to do with the fact you feel mildly, psychologically indebted to protecting her, right? Because of how much her mom used to help you and your father?"

"You're my science bro, Bruce. You're supposed to agree with me, not analyze me. Help me out here!" Tony pouted, actually putting down his tools to look at Dr. Banner. Bruce grinned sheepishly, offering a weak shrug. Part of helping was pointing out obvious biases that could hinder the investigation.

"If I help you, will you work faster on the antidote?" Steve approached quietly, clawed footsteps echoing in the lab. He felt bad about interrupting them, and didn't want to. Theories about the explosion and Liberty's odd grandmother were intriguing. Their minds were a wonder to behold, anyways. When Tony and Bruce got on the same tangent, devoted their energies to the same task, it became a mesmerizing harmony.

"We're working as fast as we can, Steve." assured Tony. "But what do you know?"

"I pulled a dog tag from the man that attacked me. It said 'Narcozi'."

"Get a good look at him?" Tony rubbed his beard, something vaguely resounding in his mind about the name. It sounded familiar.

"Nope. Dressed like a burglar. He had brown eyes, though. He snuck in a day before the explosion."

"That could've been a thwarted robbery attempt, though." Bruce pointed out. "The Ramsey's _are _a wealthy family. A rich girl living alone makes an easy target."

"The man was sent by someone!" protested Steve. Why else would he have picked those words when he attacked? "He said, 'Fuck, they didn't tell me she had a dog!'." Tony resisted the urge to chuckle. Steve had _technically_ just cussed, and he didn't do that often. The soft yowling of disagreement was also amusing, his canine jowls and furry skin flapping with air.

_"Oh god, I wished we'd taken her to Arkansas with us!" _sobbed Caroline. The crowd replied with a coos of comfort that surged up quickly and suddenly like a wave. Annoyed, Tony muted the TV. All of that mushiness and chick stuff was ruining his concentration.

"Interesting development." Tony made a quick note on Steve's behalf.

"Is that why you want a rush on the antidote?" Bruce wondered, "To help the investigation?"

"Of course! And also: cake." Steve dipped his head in mild embarrassment. The embarrassment belied his heartbroken tone.

"Cake?" repeated Bruce curiously.

"Liberty said I can't have chocolate."

Tony and Bruce laughed, causing Steve to give a high-pitched whine of annoyance and mortification.

"You might get a chance at it. The time window of two weeks to a month was made under the assumption that I'd be working alone in a kid-infested house." Bruce mused. With Tony at his side, and a decent amount of quiet time, he was sure Steve wouldn't be stuck as a dog very long. They'd cured Coriander of an overdose in less than half an hour. Her Chitauri blood helped, but that was still impressive! Steve's tail wagged.

"Great!" Steve's tail wagged again, beating against the lab table.

"Dr. Bannah?" Clint stumbled through the lab door, slightly dazed. One hand was cupped around his nose, blood dribbling through his fingers.

"What happened to you?" Bruce felt his eyebrows dive into his hair. Clint didn't get hurt that easily. He was a long-range, evasive fighter.

"Trouble in paradise with Widow?" speculated Tony.

"No. Liberty." groaned Clint as he tilted his head forward and accepted the wad of dry wipes Bruce offered.

"_Liberty _did that to you?" marveled Steve as his ears popped up and down in surprise. His ears modeled his thought process. It was stop and go at the moment. "Little, _itty-bitty _Liberty did that to you?"

"I was tryingh to swibe some frostingh. She freagged." Clint explained.

"That's a hell of a reaction." mused Tony as Clint pulled back the cluster of napkins to show a swollen, red nose that looked broken.

"We're all bigger than her," Steve came to her defense, "something big and sudden would startle anyone. Clint's quick, too, which makes it worse!"

Bruce scraped some ice buildup off the inside of the industrial freezer, squishing it in a napkin. He gave it to Clint. The archer put it thankfully on his nose, relaxing at the achingly wonderful cold kiss.

"Stranger and stranger." Tony shook his head. "Think I'm still 'jumping the gun', Bruce?"

"A little." admitted Dr. Banner. Liberty's jumpiness could easily be explained by her recent displacement. A near-death experience could change people completely!

"Diamond! I see a diamond!" Steve jumped to life, barking at the TV. Caroline Ramsey – in the middle of all her blubbering and shaky babbling – had tucked hair behind her ear. Tony whipped around, eyes trained to the screen.

"JARVIS, freeze frame!"

"Yes sir." the picture froze.

"Try to narrow in on her earring and scan it."

"Scan commencing, sir."

The idea to add the scanning feature came from Pepper. She never outright _wanted _for anything – rarely said the word in his presence – but would make fascinated hums at the TV or her phone. JARVIS later told him she was watching a commercial, ever vigilant for false advertising and defamation of character concerning Tony Stark. When he would idly tease and ask what had her so interested in a commercial – even if he knew it was shoes, but not what kind, for example – she wouldn't say a thing. Fed up and unanswered, Tony turned to JARVIS for help.

JARVIS would then research her current history and bring up a list of products featured in the commercials. From there he would locate them in store and print out a sheet. After pestering her for hours on end, Pepper crumble slightly and point out a pair of shoes that would go well with a dress or nicely with her suits.

"Scan completed, sir."

"What is it?"

"I need not answer that, sir. You have an exact match on your lab table." the four men turned to look at the crystal speckled collar.

"Still think I'm 'jumping the gun'?" Tony eyed Bruce with a hint of smugness. Bruce said nothing for a moment.

"Crystal _is _common, Tony. Anyone can buy it for the right price." he stuttered.

"But she _just _got back from Arkansas, which has a well-known mining area for quartz crystal. And those crystal-toting dogs were _just _moved andfreed from captivity!"

"Okay," Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no arguing with Tony. He was like a stubborn child! At least he'd know how to deal with Emery when he got older. "I'm going to indulge you. Say she _is _smuggling crystal, if so, why would she stop?"

"Police closed in and she had to cut ties. Didn't want to be found." Tony shrugged quickly, the idea making sense.

"Or thought her be-bull were goingh to roll on her." Clint nudged him in the side. That was also viable.

"She could be trying to make money! We all know the housing market's fucked up!" Tony held his hands up in defense of himself. He was a genius, but sometimes people didn't understand him. Most times – like now – people gave him crazy looks until all the pieces connected.

"But how does this concern Liberty?" Steve wondered. No one had told him about Caroline Ramsey's attempt to cash in on Janice and Alexander's will.

"Caroline realized she couldn't make her money by smuggling, or didn't _want _to wait on making money, and settled for a quick fix." Tony answered.

"Likgh insurance ball-icies." Barton said without skipping a beat. She'd surely get _something _for the smoldered ruins of Liberty's apartment.

"How could an elderly woman rig an apartment?" Bruce inquired, hoping to tear apart this ridiculous web of mounting speculation. Honestly, it was all making his head hurt. They had _no proof _of anything, whatsoever! This wasn't helping anything on the home front – Steve's condition, Liberty, the recovering officers stricken by the same odd allergen – and it wasn't keeping Hulk quiet.

"She wouldn't." Fury walked in, effectively startling everyone. He dropped a plastic bag onto the table. Steve's nose twitched, bursting into action at the presence of something charred, something metal, and hints of plastic. "She would hire a rejected soldier."

"The tag! It's the tag! See Tony, I told you! I told you! I'm a _GOOD DOG! _I mean…soldier…Avenger…helper." Steve ducked his head again when the excitement died. Occasionally those purely canine thoughts slipped through. Because Bruce had gloves on, he opened the bag. A preserved VHS of _Cinderella_, _Lady and the Tramp_, and _Snow White _tumbled out, the cases slightly melted and stained with smoke. The smoke-scented dog-tag followed.

"Narcozi." read Bruce.

"We found it under the bed."

"Sorry about that, sir." Steve apologized, standing at attention. "I had to bury it. Or try to. I ended up hiding it because I couldn't dig through the carpet. It was mine…I wanted to keep it."

Fury gave a slight nod. He didn't know whether to be amused or pity Steve. Battling with his humanity was hard. Losing out to canine instincts he'd only had for a few days had to be harder. "The movies were in the top of her bedroom closet. Explosion analysts said the fire never reached her room. Fire department doused the apartment before it completely consumed the hallway."

"Did they figure out how it started?"

"Blunt force trauma to the gas line in the kitchen. There was enough gas spewing to kill the people down the hall, but, luckily, she had a window in the kitchen. Analysts deduced that incoming sunlight ignited the gas via a heated windowpane and air particles…if that makes sense." he informed.

"So, you're a delivery boy now?"

"You wish, Stark. I came by to drop the news off about Narcozi."

"I thought you didn't deal with petty criminals?"

"I don't. Narcozi's still technically something I can handle. SHIELD rejected him when he failed his psych evals. And, of course, I wanted to see your face." Fury joked as he gazed at Stark. That didn't sound good, and Tony was instantly suspicious. Nick was absolutely serious, but his eye twinkled humorously. Something was about to bite him in the ass.

"Turn the tag over." invited Fury. Tony did.

"Damnit, Hammer!" Tony slammed his fist down on the table at the sight of the logo. That logo mocked him. Hammer had nearly forced a shutdown of Iron Man when Ivan Vanko manned an army of homicidal copycats. Justin Hammer had been arrested, interrogated by SHIELD, but bought his way out of jail. His pricey lawyers helped him walk away with nothing but house arrest and a slap on the wrist.

"This will now receive your full attention." Fury commanded. Justin's presence was never good. His mark on anything meant imminent destruction. "We've got to find the link between Narcozi, Hammer, and the Ramseys."

"Yes, sir!" Steve barked once as a salute. Fury didn't wince, but moved his head back to show dislike for the sudden noise.

"Report to me in a few days. I have to file reports on justifiable interference concerning the apartment building. And the taping." He strode out, trench coat flapping rhythmically behind him.

"I knew it was bigger than dognapping!" Tony pumped his fist, shoving Bruce enthusiastically with the other arm. He loved it when something proved his hair-brained theories! Bruce grunted, shrugged him off, and sighed.

"Let's get back to work!" Steve cheered, renewed with the desire to investigate. They had a few pieces now. It was enough to start tracking and asking questions. Steve wanted to confront the person behind those darts with his human body. It would be _so _sweet.

"You don't have thumbs, Steve." Tony reminded. Steve snorted, giving the softest of growls.

"I can go talk to Liberty? She'll talk to me! I'm her dog. Was…am…we have a bond!" Steve's damned his canine brain. He and Liberty were _similar_. That didn't mean they had a bond! But…there was something to be said about the relationship of an animal and a human. The elements of companionship and care he shared with her _did _give him better chances on finding answers.

If she had any. Liberty didn't live with her grandmother. But, still, she was her granddaughter and should know _something_, right? "You go do that." encouraged Bruce as he swabbed the blood, put it on a different slide, and dripped liquid onto it. Steve stood up on his hind legs, grabbed the plastic bag, and jumped down into a delighted trot.

* * *

Liberty pulled out another piece, frowning at the price tag like she had all the others, and began to try it on. Pepper brought back a bag stuffed with color. Yellows, pinks, blues, ivory, peach, and a soft lime green decorated her bed. There were tank tops, long sleeved shirts, shrugs, blue jeans, ruffled shirts, lace outerwear, summer dresses, and multiple jackets for the eventual winter. Most of them were light and breezy to accommodate the lingering heat.

"Surprise! Look what Directory Fury—I'M SO SORRY!" Steve nosed his way through her open door and nearly broke his jaw trying to slip out. His jaw connected sharply with the wall and he yelped. She yelped, too. The image of her back turned to him, pale flesh perfectly visible and unprotected from his eyes, had Steve flustered. He'd seen pinups and the legs of the USA chorus girls, but _never_ the complete backside of a woman!

A matching black bra and panty set stood between him and a perfect view of Liberty's backside. "STEVE!" she squeaked, a sound that made his toes curl giddily. A woman had never said his name like that. All surprised and breathless. "GET OUT!"

"Just throwing this in, I promise! I won't even look!" he grabbed the bag with his teeth, closed his eyes and threw it.

"It didn't make it, whatever it was." Steve gave a short whine embarrassment. Okay, so maybe he did have to look. Just this once! Maybe.

The bag lay against the ajar door. Steve nosed it open further, but gave up on throwing it. Her pale flesh was burned into his brain. Steve couldn't close his mouth if he wanted to. She was tiny, so delicately and deliciously tiny…most of her was, anyways.

She had quite the luscious rump, Steve noticed. And wonderfully curvy legs sculpted by lean muscle. Old Steve would've easily had an asthma attack, rode out a fantastic orgasm due to breathing complications, and fainted shortly after. Dog Steve wanted to hump her leg. Human Steve – older, wiser, _nicer_, soldier Steve – just stared.

The concept of "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" was a big thing in the army. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness was the American dream back when he was a kid. The three pillars holding up the foundation of his time! He'd seen patriotism personified – Rosie the Riveter, Uncle Sam, the Statue of Liberty – but _this _personification was the best, for she was named Liberty and had red hair, white skin, and blue eyes.

And…white scars.

So many white scars. Steve intended to bring the plastic bag in, but lost all interest in doing so. Her room was well-lit, thanks to Tony's money and expensive lighting, and he could see all of them. His heart hurt; it was a type of hurt he'd only known from the army rejections. That pain left when he was accepted, and had come back in a dull ache until Peggy satisfied him with that first curious kiss. But now it was back, and there was no Peggy.

Peggy couldn't fix this. She didn't cause it. The pain flooded thickly and sharply through his veins, weighing Steve down like lead. Every breath exerted his breaking heart. Could canines shed tears?

He wanted to.

Steve could feel his eyes burning. Try as he might, he couldn't rip his eyes off the network of pain on her back. Just like the map at the HYDRA base, Steve had to memorize this. Count all the points where those little white lines connected, where they crossed, and how much of her they covered.

A growl rumbled in his throat, building until he couldn't contain it. Liberty whipped around. He hadn't said anything for a while, and she thought he'd dropped off that surprise by now. She'd heard the door open, but nothing else. The snarling was very alarming.

"Who did this to you? Who hurt you? _Why _would anyone hurt you? What did you do?" Steve was so confused. Confused and angry. Liberty quickly slipped on the closest shirt, not caring that she had no pants to speak of. She'd intended to try on one of those summer dresses when he bolted into her room. That was shot to hell, and now she was in more than one type of vulnerable.

Someone had found out. She didn't want to remember again. Honestly, she thought she put it all behind her. There wasn't much she _could _remember. Those memories came and went under times of extreme stress, arriving in fragments and disappearing into wisps that caught her dreams and consciousness in weak moments such as this.

He was angry with her, just as Grandma Caroline had always been. "Nothing." countered Liberty briskly, though meekly. If she denied everything it would fade away, like it always had. "It's nothing." she told herself, damning her quivering voice. She knew it was something because no _normal _person flinches at the touch of another woman; no _normal_ person cringes when something creeps along their back.

Liberty knew it was wrong. All of it. But she didn't know how to untangle that nauseating ball of emotions within herself and _speak_. Part of her didn't _want _to speak about it because it _hurt_; Grandma Caroline said talking about it was bad. Saying bad things meant being bad, and Grandma Caroline didn't like bad girls.

Grandma Caroline only liked good girls…like Katie. Good girls didn't talk back, and listened very well. They wore pretty little dresses and explored many fine activities that were a _privilege_ to have. A necessity to character, even. They smiled beautifully when they weren't happy, and learned to _be _happy with the luxuries they were given, however stupid and stuffy and boring they may be.

Steve was so mad he couldn't see straight. His body shook unmercifully, but somehow he found the strength to cross the room. "Steve…" Liberty's voice shuddered as she pressed herself up against the wall, "You're scaring me!"

"YOU'RE scaring ME! I've neverseen _that_ done to a woman! It's not right! That's _not _how you're supposed to treat a woman! Who did this to you?!"

"Don't worry about it."

"I _am _going to worry about it. And I'm going to stay _right here_ until I get my answers." Steve jumped up, his paws against the wall. He desperately wished for his human body. She'd know he was serious, then, and it would be much harder to push him away. Liberty knew, logically, that Steve would do her no harm. All of the growling and angry talking was just making her nervous.

"It's the result of my ignorance." she answered at last, unable to take the persistent pierce of his blue eyes. "There was a price to be paid for non-conformity, and this is it." Liberty gestured to her back, sending long, small fingers up over her left shoulder to caress the scarred skin. The harsher ones had gone away with antibiotics and lightening cream, but she remembered the pricks of pain. She would never forget the stinging patches, or Juanta, who had always made them better. Liberty felt her lips wobble and she cursed herself.

When was the last time she'd openly cried about it all? She couldn't remember. Crying wasn't really condoned in the Ramsey house. Every time she wanted to cry, nerve impulses took over like some kind of instinct, and forced her to clench her lips shut. "When you're weak, like me," she whispered hoarsely, feeling tears start to prick her eyes, "you come to a point where the pain outweighs the freedom, where you're tired of having your back against the wall, tired of being outnumbered and beaten down, and you just give up. It's easier that way, and it hurts less."

"No," Steve shook his head. He couldn't believe that she'd arrived at such a point. The scars were white, meaning they'd been healed and were very old. Steve had gotten enough scars, bruises, and scrapes in his younger days to know what the colors meant. It was so unfathomable that he didn't know what to say.

Something like that wouldn't have happened in his day. And if it did…god help the man who laid his hand on a woman. Every woman had a man. If she didn't have a man, well, there were several friends in the form of an interested guy willing to defend her. Male friends of girlfriends, even.

_It just didn't happen_! It wasn't _supposed_ to happen. _Least of all to Liberty_, Steve thought with a frown. She was one of the most harmless people he'd ever met! Very quiet, but generous. "You don't give up. When you get to that point, you _find _someone to help you!"

"I didn't know what to _do_, Steve! I was only a little girl!" Liberty began to sob, hating herself for the tears. Hating herself for keeping it all in. Hating herself for never telling…even when she knew she should've. She sunk to the floor, her knees no longer supportive, and Steve followed.

He licked her face, hoping to ease the tears. Steve never was a big fan of salt. Her pale face was dark gray to his canine eyes, meaning she was thoroughly flushed. She could hardly speak because of the shaking. Steve didn't want her to speak; he didn't want to know anything if those memories and secrets did _this _to her.

Liberty wrenched her head away, not wanting to be comforted. She just wanted to be left alone so she could forget. But, deep down, the licking was comforting. It touched her inner child and warmed it until the iota of relief and appreciation began to toughen. "Are you done? Did you pick out what you—what's wrong?" Pepper was on full panic mode.

She was used to being a mother to Coriander far before the children, and the desire to understand and shelter and love had only grown with the twins. Liberty was so tiny, and looked highly pitiable with her flushed face and glossy eyes. Almost like a sad little doll someone had abandoned. "Nothing!" choked out Liberty, furious that another person found her in such a state. They wouldn't be able to understand because she physically, mentally, couldn't explain!

That hurt more than the beatings. She stormed across the room, intending to shove Pepper out of the doorway. Liberty wasn't sure what she'd do with Steve, but she'd get rid of him, too. The only way she knew how to deal with this was on her own. That's how it had always been.

"It's not nothing!" Steve countered, sinking his teeth into a yellow top with ruffles.

"STEVE!" Pepper smacked him on instinct, catching a flash of teeth. She was wary of things that could bite and cause injury, and while she knew Steve, she didn't know what that dart had done to him. Who's to say his mind was really his own? Steve jerked away instantly, ripping the cloth as he jumped back. "BAD—oh, _Liberty_!"

"Get out, get out, GET OUT!" something snapped in Liberty. She needed to get them away. She needed time to breathe. Pepper didn't try to speak as the little woman shoved her with more force than she imagined to receive. It was impossible to speak…she didn't know what to say!

"C'mon, Steve." urged Pepper.

"But, I want to—"

"_C'mon_, Steve." she'd need him in the lab. If Liberty wasn't going to get answers, she'd make Tony find some. Steve would merely confirm the scar sightings.

"You too, Steve." demanded Liberty, much less venomous to him than she had been to Pepper. Steve walked dejectedly to the doorway, absently kicked the plastic bag into the room. He'd only wanted to give her the movies, after all. That would've made her happy. She wasn't very happy right now, and that made Steve hurt worse than the super soldier injection.

"It's only because I—" Steve started.

The door slid shut, locking audibly.

"—care." Steve lowered his head again. Pepper's fingers grazed the fur along his spine.

"C'mon, Steve. We're going to get some answers." Pepper stormed through the house like a raging twister, making a beeline for the lab. Coriander was laying Emery down in the nursery, and could therefore keep an eye on the twins as she continued her quest for knowledge. JARVIS saw her coming and opened the lab door before she could blow through it. She grabbed the edges of the door in her fists, knuckles blanching. If Bruce wasn't as panicked as Tony, he would've laughed at the famous billionaire for undoubtedly shitting himself.

"What did I do? I know I didn't forget out anniversary!"

"It's not you." Steve promised. Tony allowed himself to breathe and relax.

"She's _hurt_!" Pepper gasped out, the anger and confusion heavy enough to rip words from her mouth.

"Who's hurt? Sorrel?!" Tony questioned instantly. There weren't that many women in Stark Tower, and his first thought went to his only daughter. Wasn't she supposed to be sleeping?

"Liberty." Pepper shook. "Liberty's hurt."

"And she's still hurting." Steve added guiltily. Why wouldn't she let him help? Men were always supposed to help the woman! And…and women shouldn't be in that kind of pain, anyways!

"Why didn't you alert us, JARVIS?"

"It was at Mrs. Stark's request that I not bother Liberty while changing. That, and these wounds cannot be physically bandaged nor healed. They are quite old. Dr. Banner's services would be irrelevant."

"Pull up the footage, JARVIS, and don't you _dare _say you don't have any! I know you do! Tony keeps cameras all _over _this house!"

"What footage, ma'am? You'll need to specify."

"Today's date. Liberty's room. About twenty minutes ago. Don't play smart with me, JARVIS! I'll have Cori disassemble you!"

"I wasn't playing, Mrs. Stark. You know I'm required to ask certain questions."

"You _are _pissed," Tony breathed, making sure Bruce was between him and Pepper before he spoke.

"You're damn right I am!" Pepper jabbed a finger out at him and Tony ducked. Her fingers were more like claws at the moment, and he didn't wish to feel them. "That…it's just…!"

"Inexcusable?" offered Steve.

"YES!" roared Pepper, glad to find the right word. Okay, someone else understood. She didn't have to seethe and suffer alone. That was good, and with Steve's help she could _maybe _separate the strong bouts of anger before they consumed her.

_"STEVE!" she squeaked._

"Pause!" barked Steve, jumping towards the TV slightly.

"Oh…" Tony made a low noise in his throat. Janice would be rolling over in her grave. Alexander would, too. Actually…Alexander would be looking for blood.

"Those are very old." Dr. Banner pushed his glasses up on his nose. "They've all healed without infection, but the lasting scar means significant tissue damage. Most of them occur on her middle and upper back." Bruce enhanced the image, wanting to see them better. He could feel the Hulk twitching beneath his skin, aware of what scars meant for Bruce Banner. "These, down here have been treated." he circled a slightly lighter area with his finger.

Liberty was porcelain pale, but he knew when a lightening cream had been applied. He'd seen his mother apply it in the bathroom before even realizing what it was supposed to do. It was long before he made the connection between his father and the idea of a monster. "It's not fair, Tony!" peeped Pepper, voice tight with tears. "She's so little, and someone hurt her! And she's scared, Tony! She's scared! She's like a little baby and she's _scared_!"

"We'll do something." Tony promised, enveloping his wife in a hug. Pepper seemed to love everything that crossed her path. Mostly. The women he brought home were not welcome, but the ones who found their way serendipitously into the tower made an impression. He would've done something, anyways.

Liberty had been his wingman - wing baby, actually – before she could even make a memory. At the age of twelve, when he first fell into the ball of hormones that would be his sexuality, she was a godsend. Older women – lovely and voluptuous – pinched his cheeks and hugged him, complimenting on how nice it was that he would entertain Liberty. Women always appreciated a helping hand for a busy mom, and Janice never seemed to catch a break. People ate her food too fast!

"How is she, JARVIS?"

"Asleep, sir." the AI switched to live footage, zeroing on a lump beneath the sheets. She was curled in the fetal position, and looked like a speck in the massive bed. Steve left the three to a discussion of approach concerning the situation. He was angry as hell, too, but between anger and comforting, he'd rather comfort. Liberty was asleep, and would never know he'd been in there.

Steve just wanted to see if she was alright. Seeing her would make _him_ feel better. It was wrong to leave her unattended at such an emotional time…even if she didn't want company. Everyone wanted company when they were upset! That's what made them human!

"Unlock the door, JARVIS." Steve demanded. Liberty hadn't given JARVIS any restricting orders, and therefore hadn't barred anyone from her room. Even if she had, Steve would've used the 'Captain' card.

"As you wish, Mr. Rogers." the AI slid the door open. He padded in quietly, soothed by soft, steady breathing. Her breath would waver every few inhales. It cleaved Steve's heart to hear it. She was curled into the right side of the bed, her back to the door, so Steve assumed the left side.

_You may not want help, but you need it. And, because you helped me, I'll help you. _Steve put his head on the pillow and rolled over to his side. He wanted to lie comfortably; he planned to stay awhile.

* * *

Tony poked his head into the room. Liberty was still asleep. Her crying episode, and the trauma they'd unknowingly reawakened, left her totally drained. They saved lunch for her, and dinner, but it ended up going to Steve. Steve refused to leave the room.

Stark didn't know how Steve managed ignore the bathroom for so long, but knew emotion could hinder that department. If he had any doubt that the dog was Steve, he didn't now. The dog snored like a V8 engine sounded. "We couldn't come to a consensus, but this was my suggestion. Hope it helps, Cap." Tony approached the bed carefully, fueled by calm as he prepped the needle and injected its contents into Steve. In the event that nothing happened, Pepper would take the reins so Bruce could lay low and work his magic from the background.

He breathed a sigh of relief in the hall, glad Steve didn't wake up and go for his hand. Tony crossed his fingers like a child, praying for the first time in a long time. "Damn…" he yawned as he drifted from the lab and hazardous materials box to his bedroom, "I'm actually starting to miss the Boy Scout!"


	6. Reporting for Duty

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **You guys are wonderful. You really are! I mean…just wow…30 reviews already?!…so much love! _Serenade _by CSI Clue was awesome – I read it in one sitting and reviewed the next day! _Fan Mail _was also interesting, but didn't grab me as much as _Serenade _(thank you though, ThoughtlessRage).

I think I know what I'm going to do for my lusty Steve bits now!

Thanks to champagne mocha, blown-transistor, ThoughtlessRage, pizzagirl, and Drachegirl14 for reviewing!

To champagne: happy to reply! Anyone who takes the time to review deserves to be spoken about. The support is wonderful, and you deserve a reply.

To ThoughtlessRage: I'm honored. As you know, I like to make my characters humble and complex. This is just my way of making Liberty relatable and human. Too often I'm disappointed by flawless Mary Sues with perfect bodies, perfect faces, and perfect ways. It's just flat.

To Drachegirl14: I agree, those are the good characters.

Again, warnings for abuse apply.

* * *

Five: Reporting for Duty

Liberty awoke feeling empty, numb, dazed, and slightly pleasant. It felt good to have someone uncover her burden and sympathize, as odd as that sounded. Seeing others cry about it, hearing the disapproval in their voices solidified the idea that _she _could feel that way. Pepper was a normal person, and crying had been her reaction. She was normal too, by that logic, because those scars had made her cry for years.

If she was normal, then she wasn't bad. All the nasty little things Grandma Caroline ever said were wrong. That helped Liberty feel infinitely better. Her body was a relaxed puddle, the tears of yesterday wringing out every ounce of tension and fear she owned. The dazed feeling came from being awake, from having no concept of time.

How long had she slept? Why couldn't she hear JARVIS down the hall or Thor's large steps? She felt trapped in some wonderful dream where she was alone and basking in the relief of someone knowing her pain. The silk sheets on her cloud-white bed gave a luxurious air to her broken spell of sleep. Surrounded by neutral tones of the guestroom, and dim light pressing through one large window, Liberty felt like she was in a wonderful fantasy.

Silk sheets brushed against the tattered remains of her top. It made Liberty feel especially soft and safe. A wild scraping and thumping tore her from the reverie. She bolted up and groaned immediately after, a weight digging into her waist and pinning her. Her eyes followed the peach flesh to her left, trailing up the corded muscles as they melted into one broad shoulder.

_Holy shit! _Liberty trembled, thoughts dissolving at the sight of a naked man in her bed. His lips twitched, whispering things she couldn't hear. He was caught in the throes of a dream, blonde hair rumpled and plastered with sweat. She could see his eyelids twitch slightly, like he was trying to look around. _Is he…having a running dream_?

"WE GOT HIM!" yelled the man suddenly, causing Liberty to cry out. He's naked, running in his sleep, and yelling. Who _wouldn't_ be scared?! Blonde lashes sprang up, unleashing blue eyes as the man sat up abruptly. His brawny chest heaved, muscles working in overtime to breathe.

"Got _who_?" Liberty tucked sheets around her panty-wearing hips. She was hoping the movement would drag the sheets and help him realize his bareness. That, and the unquestionable outline of his form needed to be ruined. Her bed sheets created a cocoon of warmth, a textured element that wasn't exactly helping his situation. Because she was a virgin – and not a nun – Liberty couldn't help but sweep her eyes once or twice up the tangled sheets.

He certainly had a presence about him, that much could be said. The semi-tanned peach flesh stretched smoothly over the lean muscle in his long form. She was surprised he could fit in her bed! Liberty flushed, realizing her warm sheets had a fleshy contributor.

"The man from the warehouse! I was running and—LIBERTY!" his eyes lit up. She froze. Only Captain said her name with such excitement.

"Captain?" she tried tentatively. The name worked like a trigger. He dove into her, large arms wrapping around her little body.

"I thought you weren't going to talk to me after yesterday! You were so hurt…so mad…I wanted to make you feel better. Is it working? Do you feel better?" Steve squeezed slightly. Liberty felt redder than her hair. She certainly felt _something_! Her heart fluttered as she adjusted to the scene before her. A male – tall, beautiful, muscled, blonde, gorgeous eyes – jammed her to the mattress.

She was surrounded by smooth, hot flesh. An unmistakably musky, masculine fragrance cloaked her. His knees dug into the bed on either side of her hips, creating an odd situation for her lower body. "Steve!" snapped Liberty, trying to unearth herself from beneath him. The male stopped, giving a low, coarse moan.

"I'm human!" the frenzied spell was broken. Steve Rogers blinked, feeling the dog essence fade slightly as his humanity surged forward. Only a human male would be able to get…only an achingly stiff penis coming into contact with something silky would make him feel _that_! Part of him realized that he was naked, that Liberty was beneath him, but only half of him wanted to move. The other half wanted her to wiggle away, to generate more friction against him.

The sensations were hell on his body. Wonderful, but hell. Steve hadn't _ever _felt like this in his human form! He should be embarrassed, but wasn't. Coasting down from his canine condition had effectively torn a hole in his usually reserved sexual nature.

"And you're Steve Rogers." Liberty added. The sooner he realized he was Captain America, the Avengers' golden boy, the sooner she could get out from under him! Not that she wanted to – any woman would _kill _to be in her position – but it was just the context of things. She'd spontaneously combust from the heat or have a heart attack if she spent another minute under him! Or die of hypoxia, because the excitement in his blue eyes, the way they gushed so warmly, stole her breath.

"And I'm Steve Rogers." he agreed.

"Who is Captain America."

"I _am _Captain America! I'm _back_! I'm _Captain America_!" Steve clenched his fists victoriously, truly delighted. Heart pounding, Liberty shifted upwards to avoid his knuckles. Steve's hands were closed tightly into fists, his knuckles prodding against her back. Rogers breath hitched slightly as his human mind processed the kiss of her smooth skin against his heated flesh. His mouth watered, teased by the aroma of her lavender-scented skin and peppermint hair.

"Stand down, Captain. You don't need to be at attention." Liberty wiggled closer to the headboard, bending back along his knuckled to avoid the metaphorical sword he possessed. Steve's blue eyes watched her torso bend back as she reached for the headboard, one leg slipping from the confines of his arms. It was an interesting image, seeing a woman bend like that from this angle. He knew she was trying to untangle herself, but couldn't bring himself to move. His eyes could finally decode _all _the world's colors again, and he had a rather wonderful visual to drink in.

She really _was _the prettiest red, white, and blue thing he'd ever seen. Very smooth. If he tilted his head down, he could ghost his lips across her stomach. "But I _do _need to report to the others." Steve said aloud, reminding himself of the role he had prior to Liberty. He carefully lifted his weight from the little woman, feeling Human Steve ambush Dog Steve long enough for him to separate and draw himself up with dignity.

He couldn't honestly explain what just happened. Or why it happened. Steve didn't know if it was primal, or just the result of his system depleting that dog allergen. Despite his pounding heart and hotly roaring blood, Steve managed a few cool breaths and a shy smile. It was an imperfect smile because it was crooked and laced with something other than shyness.

Being locked in ice for seventy years hadn't made him stupid. Behind on the times, maybe, but not stupid. He didn't need to understand the modern society to know his body. The sense of male pride creeping into his bones, powering his heated skin, caused that wicked grin. And he was perfectly okay with that.

Having a straight, bashful smile was impossible with Liberty before him as she was. There was something engaging about a disheveled woman shy with modesty. Her hair was tousled, spilling over and slightly past her shoulders. It highlighted her pink cheeks, falling forward in sections as she fixed the sheets around her waist. She was an unaware temptress with her soft, pale skin and wide eyes.

"Here." stuttered Liberty, handing him a pillow. It was technically Tony's; she didn't care that it may get a hole in it. She couldn't tell if Steve was happy to be human again, or reveling in the fact that she looked anywhere but to his lower body. He towered over her, so keeping her eyes on his face was easy. Liberty memorized the golden eyebrows, sharp eyes, Roman nose, and square chin Captain's features receded into.

Her mind was officially blown.

She didn't want to believe it when Tony told her – how often did dogs turn into people?! – but couldn't ignore the proof. If he wasn't Captain America, he wouldn't be here. Liberty had been jarred from sleep a few times during the night, hidden memories slipping out because of the stress and shame, only to find Captain curled protectively beside her. Whatever rage she'd felt for him earlier that day dissipated. The idea of having someone there, someone she could hug, trumped that shameful mortification.

"Thanks." Steve allowed himself to blush. He'd have to talk to Dr. Banner about those pangs of…Dog Steve. The allergen wasn't totally gone, that much he could tell, and it was trying to regain control. His mind felt noticeably split into different personas. Steve felt like he walked the line between blind, animalistic nature and evolved, intelligent humanity.

"I'd better, uh, get some clothes on. You should, too."

"I'll think about it." thinking of yesterday, of the stares and pity that would surely be outside her door, Liberty didn't really feel like leaving her room. She didn't want to deal with people eyeing her like _that_. It just made her hate herself for bottling it all up. And she felt pretty silly about sobbing. Strong, unprompted emotions had been largely suppressed in the Ramsey house when she was a child.

Feeling such an intense spell of anguish and rage left Liberty unsure of how to feel. The residents of Stark Tower had actually come to her aid! They didn't ask her to quell that ugly noise. How was she supposed to act when these people challenged everything she'd been taught? It left Liberty feeling like she had no place, no identity.

She'd spent her entire life as a Ramsey. Conformed to their standards after a _long _two-year struggle for independence. How could she hold on to her Ramsey teachings if Pepper and Steve rushed in to check on her, to break down those walls? What would she be once they were all broken? Who could she turn into when she didn't know how to be anything else but a quiet, _respectful_ woman?

"We're pretty lax about a first-time underwear offense. Everyone gets their strike."

"What makes you think I want to come out at all?"

"Oh, you will. It's just a matter of willingness." Steve promised. Liberty narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he'd be the one to make good on that hint of forced removal. Steve turned on heel and marched confidently out of the room, hips and toned buttocks retreating in an orderly and tantalizing fashion. She slipped into a lime green shirt and a pair of blue jeans. For the longest time she just sat in the room, registering everything that had happened.

Her morning had been zany enough, and Liberty realized it would be a "rollercoaster" day. There would be good, and there would be bad. Waking up next to a sculpted angel of a man was the good – as startling as it was – but the bad was swiftly approaching. She'd have to man up and face Pepper. Her stomach knotted heavily at the thought; the creeping feeling of _everyone knows now _began to consume her.

Liberty felt incredibly small.

What would she say? What would _they _say? It was nice to feel the burden dissolving…even if she hated the vulnerability that came with it. She cringed at the thought of them bringing it up, though. If the Avengers were as merciless to her as they were the invading aliens, well….she'd have to relive her childhood one way or another.

"So…" Tony Stark stood in her doorway, the hint of a smirk on his lips. "Are you going to come calmly, or are we doing the 'kicking and screaming' thing?" the question was just a nicety. Tony had every intention of scooping the twenty-one-year-old over his shoulder and _making _her socialize. That, and he'd made a decent distraction to keep her from wondering where Pepper and Steve slipped off to. Liberty yelped as Tony pinned her legs beneath his left arm, dangling over his shoulder helplessly.

"Ow! Hey, no biting!" Tony turned on instinct at the sharp pain in his side. He winced when she hit the doorway. "Well…it's your own fault." he pointed out. Slightly dazed, Liberty let herself be carried to the kitchen. Liberty rubbed her head as Tony put her in a chair.

She became instantly aware of Thor to her left, Natasha to her right, and Dr. Banner in front of her.

She felt rightfully trapped.

"Glad to see you're awake." Bruce smiled, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"Thanks." Liberty mumbled, getting the creeping suspicion that his smile was genuine but masking. She doubted they'd brought her out here for breakfast. There was a reason she was settled between two strong, scary people, Liberty thought.

"If you're up for it, we'd really like to talk about yesterday."

"About what?"

"About yesterday." repeated Bruce. "As in, the _whole events_ of yesterday."

"I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest idea of what you're talking about." Liberty damned her tongue. Oh, she knew. And they knew. It was just a reflex to deny everything. That's what she'd been _raised _to do.

Bruce seemed to know this, and thinned his lips for a moment. He wasn't displeased; he just didn't expect to hit that roadblock so early.

"The scars of many arduous encounters upon your back, Liberty. Dr. Banner speaks of those. We wish to discuss them."

"There's nothing to discuss." Liberty replied briskly, pushing back from the table. She scowled when Natasha's combat boot staked methodically behind the chair leg, cutting off her retreat. Thor's large hand settled gently on her shoulder, warm and supportive.

"There is." Natasha corrected her. "You just can't, or _won't_,talk about it."

"I…" Liberty felt her chest heave. It hurt, keeping something like that in. She remembered it in bits and pieces, but couldn't begin to vocalize the pain. The pain was powerful and overwhelming. There couldn't possibly a word fit enough to describe it.

The abuse occurred within two years, but lingered longer than that. "There's no…I can't…I just really, _really _want to forget about it." she choked out. Liberty felt trapped, in a position where they would force the nightmares from her. It would be a nightmare in itself, this process, and it wasn't sitting well with her stress. Bruce was ready to take notes, catching the wet glint of her eyes as a tipping point.

She was about to do something, and what she did would define how they approached this issue. He would then hand his notes off to SHIELD-appointed psychologist Dr. Eliza Abbot, who would help them coordinate a plan to treat Liberty. They wanted to help her because she lived in the tower with them. No human being deserved to live in such torment, and Bruce couldn't stand to see it. Having Liberty in such a state would likely increase the appearance of Hulk due to his personal discomfort.

Tony was worried about it, too, because he'd known her parents. It tore Steve to the core, Bruce noticed. He'd jumped at the chance to look for acquaintances with Pepper. The soldier hadn't even gotten his feet under him and he was already moving; striding with purpose and fire. Fury thought Dr. Abbot's presence would be beneficial to the team and possibly help the investigation.

She'd had a whole childhood with Caroline Ramsey. Who knew what she would uncover? They were hoping to reveal a tie to Hammer. Social status often had the two families mingling with one another. This kitchen conversation would merely determine how fast Dr. Abbot needed to be contacted.

"Everyone in your position does. You can't fight it alone, Liberty." Bruce regretted to inform her. Now he knew what Dr. Johnson felt like. It felt weird to know he'd been through abuse but was acting as the counselor instead of the victim. He hadn't been a victim in a long time. Liberty could escape it if he had.

The fact that she expressed normal emotions and accepted Steve's attempt to alleviate her pain in the bedroom spoke volumes. She wanted to be fixed, that footage showed. She just wasn't sure how to fix herself, and didn't know if it would hold. Fighting the instinct to repress and deny was hard, Bruce knew. "I didn't." he whispered after a quiet moment.

It was a bittersweet pain to watch her façade crack. Bruce smiled slightly. Her eyes widened, seemed to lighten instantly into aquamarine blue at the idea that she wasn't alone. He saw the tears coming, and they fell, but they seemed insignificant compared to the hope he could literally see flourishing inside of her. _Damn Bruce, damn him! _Liberty thought.

She knew what he was trying to do…wanted the help…but couldn't possibly begin to explain. Not with the tears already rolling down her face. And…and that _smile _he gave! God, why was he being so…so _kind_?

"I can't. I just _can't_! Let me up. I want to get up!" Liberty pushed stubbornly at the table. She didn't want to collapse into a sobbing heap here. Not in the kitchen where yummy things were made. The kitchen was always a happy place in her mind; she didn't want to desecrate it.

"Yes you can, Liberty." Bruce assured. "You can, you _know_ you can. You've been wanting to say something for a _very _long time."

"Stop it! I told you: I _can't_!" Liberty wanted to scream. Actually…she wanted to hit something. It was childish, and wrong, but she felt like her back was against the wall. She didn't want to go through this and they were _making _her! Tony turned towards the coffee pot when Liberty looked at him, blue eyes and wobbly lip begging for escape.

Thor curled a few fingers against her shoulder, needing to do little to exert pressure on her body. She needed to stay in the chair for this. Like the bitter herbal medicine of Asgardian medics, this would cleanse her. Liberty gritted her teeth, feeling her cheeks flush as something hot and sharp flicked through her. It was so hot….she was nearly burning!

Something snapped in her, eaten away by the heat, and Liberty socked Thor as hard as she could. Being a god, Thor wasn't hurt. Stunned, but not hurt. "Hold her down!" Tony scrambled for the remote inside of his suit pocket, needing to break that haze. Liberty had gone to a place few remembered, a place only found by exertion and extreme aggravation.

Using one hand to hold her arms, and the other to catch her kicking legs, Thor obeyed. "Are you going to hit him again, Liberty?" Tony asked as he activated the footage he and JARVIS dug up.

"YES!" she snarled. "YOU WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS! I'M NOT GOING TO STAND FOR IT!"

"Are you going to hit him like this?" queried Tony, showing a clip of Alexander "Raging Ram" Ramsey feigning climbing up the ropes until his opponent got close enough to deck with a swift right hook. It was a right hook that swung his whole body around. One Liberty had used on Clint in the kitchen. "Or like this?" he switched to a clip of the brunette male ducking a swing and going for the ribs and kidney. Liberty ceased her raging and wriggling, enraptured by the sight of her father in his younger years.

She missed him terribly. All of her home videos were destroyed in the fire. There was nothing left of her parents. The timestamp of the video made her heart ache. January 14th, 1991; she'd been born a month later to a man the world didn't think could be gentle.

"Daddy…" Liberty felt her eyes burn. She wanted to crawl under the table and curl up in shame. She was so emotional!

"Your last doctor visit was in the spring of '98, for a broken wrist. By then you were living with your grandparents because Janice and Alexander died. So…want to tell me why your grandmother beat you?" Tony stabbed her with fiery brown eyes. He wasn't mad at her, but her grandmother. She was angry that Tony brought that up – did she really need to be reminded that they were dead? – but she was grateful, too. Saying that Caroline did it took a load off her shoulders. Untangled the words and emotions a bit.

"I…" Liberty knew the words were there. She knew what happened to her. Admitting to anything was just hard. If she admitted to anything, even a syllable indicating abuse, it would make her cowering inaction all the more apparent. It would force her to realize she'd been unfairly given Caroline Ramsey as a grandparent, and had put up with her.

"Is it because you looked like your mother?" Tony had a feeling that was it. Controlling, independent women like Caroline Ramsey made terrible mother-in-laws. Didn't want to relinquish their hold on children – potential life sources – to anyone. Being from old money, Caroline Ramsey didn't like that Janice Callari was from a poor family. He knew that's what it was because he'd researched it.

If he wanted, he could drag up old newspaper and TV interviews touting Janice's graceful humility in the face of her rags-to-riches life. It was a graceful humility he saw in Liberty. She'd gotten all of her mother's looks. The only thing she got from her father was his ability to fight and reserved nature. He played an opening of _Cooking with Ms. Callari_, strains of violins and harps filling the kitchen.

Her curls were looser than Liberty's, but were still shockingly red. She had the same long, pale face as her daughter. The blue eyes slightly done up in nude were still bright and warm. Inviting and friendly. They sparkled like sapphires in the studio lights, naturally changing colors every few tapings.

It was like her mother was in the room, watching her. Talking to her so sweetly and gently like she barely remembered. Liberty couldn't take it. She sobbed, sobbed unmercifully until every angry scream was forced from her throat. Her mother would've beaten Caroline with a pot if her father didn't put her in the hospital first.

If they were alive, anyways.

"Yes! _Yes_! I was ne-never good en-eno-ough! That _bitch_ h-hay-hated my mother and s-sh-she hated me! And…and I _hate _her!" Liberty yelled. She would surely be hoarse tomorrow. The words were so raw and strong as they climbed out of her throat. They were surely cutting her up as they tried to crawl out.

"She's getting hives." Natasha pulled down the fabric of her green shirt.

"Rest, young Liberty. 'Tis alright." Thor rubbed her back.

But it wasn't. They'd finally gotten what they wanted out of her. It only scratched the surface of things she needed to say, but Liberty couldn't dig deep enough for the other things. This was a start, and it was an overwhelming start. She felt the anger bubbling up inside, rushing past all learned barriers like an overflowing brook turned into a raging sea.

The anger and hurt was so intense. She shook, unable to form words. Liberty seethed, the air entering and exiting her constricted throat in a shallow hiss. A strangled gasp slipped past the hissing.

"I've always wanted to use one of those." Clint remarked idly, watching the tranquilizer arrow funnel its contents into her leg. They'd originally made those for The Other Guy. When Fury considered that any Avenger would go rogue under the right circumstances, he had doses made for all of them. Emery was included in that group because of his ability to turn green and exhibit alarming strength. Liberty was just right for an Emery dose.

She would have to be, anyways. It was the smallest dose he had. Liberty didn't look like she topped a hundred pounds. He didn't want to overdose her.

"I could've knocked her out." Natasha told him.

"It's safer this way. You would've been putting your fingers near her neck and teeth. I'm saving you." Clint promised, drawing imaginary circles around his broken nose. Dr. Banner was happy to inform him he wouldn't need surgery. Liberty struck him at a straight angle, meaning she'd broken the bone but didn't displace it. He'd be wearing plastic over his nose for a week. God help the person who made a beak joke!

"Let's hope Pepper and Steve are having better luck." Tony shook his head, sipping coffee as Liberty babbled unintelligently and slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Mrs. Stark! What an honor!" Pepper smiled, trying to ignore the sea of cameras at her back. Caroline Ramsey and her missing granddaughter was still a popular topic. Everyone wanted to know where the body was. Wondered if the young girl had some kind of amnesia or was displaced by the blast. "Please, come in!" encouraged Mrs. Ramsey.

Once the blinding light faded, and the dancing spots died, Pepper could see clearly. Mrs. Ramsey didn't have a hair out of place, nor a wrinkle in her suit. _Awfully odd for a grieving grandmother_, Pepper tried not to frown. There was nothing she'd like more than to deck this woman in the face. "What a pleasure! Shall I send for some tea?"

"No, no. I'm here on business, actually." Pepper smiled, following her to a lavishly decorated living room. Caroline had money, like Tony, but different tastes. Where Tony was all bold colors and glitz, Caroline was old-fashioned and fine. Her living room was swathed in floral prints, peach, ivory, pastels, and hints of blue and purple. Lace doilies and elegant thread rugs were perhaps the cheapest things among her collection of oil paintings and Italian furniture.

"Business? Oh! Has Stark finally come around? There's this property up in—"

"No…it's—it's not about property. This is about Liberty."

"Oh. Quite terrible, really. I wonder where she is and how she's doing. If she remembers me, wherever she is." Caroline trailed off, turning her eyes to the window across the room. Her voice shivered like it should, but Pepper saw no tears. _Did you use them all up on TV_? Pepper wondered. "But, how can I help you?"

"Are there any old videotapes of Liberty that I can have?"

"Pardon?"

"It just…it occurred to me the other day that she may not know who she is! I'd like to compile a tape we could distribute to any hospitals that may have a patient matching her description."

"Wouldn't the doctors do tests? I'm sure they'd be able to identify her by blood." Caroline smiled.

"That's true, but I also considered that a civilian picked her up."

"How would a video help the civilian?"

"They would see how much your daughter is loved and try to quit being her hero. They would bring her _home_."

"It _is _possible that some rapscallion has her, isn't it?"

"I believe so. They may not want ransom because they have her. She could be trapped! A video montage could help ignite a search!" Pepper pointed out.

"You're awful concerned for Liberty. Is it because your young daughter has bits of red in her hair? Or does she remind you of yourself?" questioned Caroline. The Starks had always been close to Janice. She thought it was sweet, their helping hand. Just the thing her raggedy daughter-in-law needed. That one had Pepper fumbling.

She was beyond fishing for information and saving her ass now. This woman was deliberately dragging on the conversation. Trying to derail her quest for answers. It was almost as if she _knew_! Caroline Ramsey simply wasn't smiling as if she'd won.

Pepper was running out of things to say! "Not at all!" she found her tongue working again, "It's just that…Tony was very close to your daughter-in-law. This means a lot to him, and that makes it mean a lot to me."

"I would have to go through the tapes and give you ones that didn't breach contracts." Caroline said.

"Contracts?"

"Yes, my employees sign a contract with an explicit no dispersal clause. They can choose whether or not to withhold tapes with their likeness. Most of them value the private life, like myself." she motioned for a woman dressed in white and blue. A silver tray topped with champagne flutes traveled across the floor. Pepper declined, but Mrs. Ramsey took one.

"How soon can you do that?"

"Oh, I don't know, dear. I'm very busy. While you're idea _is _nice, I'll trust the media." Caroline smiled. "I've got four talk show invitations. That should raise something, right?"

"I hope so." Pepper squeezed her free hand. Caroline Ramsey didn't squeeze back. She'd been rewarded with a slight curl of the finger.

"You know, dear, I'm not sure you'd have much in those tapes, to be honest. Liberty was always rather camera shy. You'd see plenty of Katie, though!"

"Katie?"

"My other granddaughter." laughed Caroline. She'd forgive Pepper for that obvious faux pas. Pregnancies and busy superhero husbands were good reasons to miss socials. Few _didn't _know Katie Ramsey. She took pictures of the houses Caroline sold, and headshots of the businesswomen and men in Ramsey Realty.

That fame enabled her to open a photography studio. An ever-changing theme boutique had been added nearly three months later. It took off! Pepper learned this and more as Caroline launched into an animated discussion about her other granddaughter. _Why can't she say this much about Liberty_? Pepper maintained her smile, fighting down the desire to frown.

"This has been lovely. Thank you for your time. I've gotta get going…kids need me." Pepper laughed, smiling brightly and bouncing her head jovially. She was going to scream if she heard any more about Katie. It was perfectly clear that Caroline Ramsey wouldn't relinquish any videotapes she possessed. A wealth of potential information slipped through her fingers as she walked past four visible cameras to Happy and the limo waiting outside. Every attendant she passed smiled and bid her goodbye with the warmth of robots.

Fuming, she dialed Steve. Hopefully someone at the makeshift memorial had answers. Someone _other _than Caroline Ramsey had to know Liberty! "Hey, Steve. How's it going?" Pepper plugged her finger with one ear, trying to hear him over the background noise. Loud Spanish threatened to cover Steve's voice.

_"It's going good, Pepper. I think we have something. I'll call you back, okay? Tell Tony to meet me in Central Park."_

* * *

"Ma'am...ma'am…I'll have to ask you to-I can't really talk." Steve mumbled through squished cheeks. The portly Spanish woman had a strong grip and the callused hands of a worker. He'd approached the bed of flowers, balloons, and stuffed animals like any other mourner. Most visitors were from the _Annie _production, grieving the loss of their Annie. She was the only one who stuck out; the woman had dark skin and was older than most.

Her tears were unstoppable, cutting wet trails through her high cheekbones and plump face. She stuttered in heavily accented English that she had been Liberty's caretaker. The woman, Juanta Ibanez, worked for Caroline Ramsey. New help had been hired once Liberty arrived, and Juanta had been one of them. "We're both new, and she so scared.

"So sad because she lost her momma." explained Juanta. "But—she smiled–one day I meet her. I tell her my name. She make such cute little face and says 'Want what? Whatd'ya want?'. She make me laugh so hard." Steve smiled. This woman was clearly hurting. The pain she had was the kind he experienced after waking up seventy years in the future. It was the face of someone mourning the loss of an irretrievable loved one.

He gave her a hug. It wasn't weird because all of her cast-mates were hugging. They were just two people holding one another, fighting off the tragedy. Like Liberty, she was short. It made Steve smile.

"What if I told you," Steve whispered very carefully and quietly, "that she was alive?"

Juanta quickly lurched back, nearly taking Steve with her. Her eyes were wide. He put a finger to his lips, hoping her stammering wouldn't make words. Steve pulled her into another hug. "She's alive, but she's really hurting. We need answers, and our hands are tied."

Then, very calmly, Juanta replied, "You have seen the scars?"

"Yeah. But she won't say how they happened. It'd really help me—_us_—feel better to have answers."

"Let's go somewhere else. I will help you." Juanta squeezed his waist gently. She smiled slightly, silently telling Steve that the slipup was noticed. He flushed.

"Thank you ma'am. I really appreciate it." Steve offered her his arm, breaking away from the others. They hailed a cab to Central Park before Juanta said anything. Once they settled on a bench she started talking. The information came out like a gushing fountain. There were so many names and stories being thrown around that Steve lost track of the order and who he was supposed to be _really _remembering.

Regardless of what he could or could not remember, Steve needed to call Tony. Tony was wealthy like the Ramseys, and had likely grown up with some of the names Juanta kept saying. Pepper surprised him, her identification showing up when he was seconds away from pressing Tony's speed-dial number. She had unsavory results at getting tapes out of Caroline Ramsey. Red flags waved in Steve's mind.

She didn't want something getting out, obviously.

Tony met him within minutes, nodding to Juanta.

"How is she?" Steve asked, vaguely schooled on their three-pronged attack by Pepper. Tony and the others would try to coax information out of her. If that didn't work, Bruce had a SHIELD psychologist lined up to help. He and Pepper were the last resort, entrusted with finding someone from her past who would shed light on her issues.

"Not good. We got a little bit of information, but then she got whiny and angry. She's recovering from a tranquilizer dart in the lab." Steve winced. That _was _bad.

"This is Juanta. She may be able to help."

"He say Liberty is alive." she whispered, looking to Tony for assurance. Tony nodded. "Can I see her? She is like a daughter! I raise her myself, more than her grandmother!"

"Shh, shh!" Tony hushed gently. "You can, but we'd like your help first. We have a psychologist lined up to analyze her. She'll be coming tomorrow. Do you think you can help the psychologist?"

"How can I help?"

"Liberty's in _extreme_ denial. She won't open up about anything. Could you give the psychologist information? You know, stuff to help her talk?"

"I have none. See George Vaughtner. He can help."

"Who is George Vaughtner?" Steve asked. The names were essentially German to him. He knew none of these people!

"George used to run Mrs. Ramsey's cameras. The footage and such. He later stop. He not like her…she's insufferable!"

"JARVIS, search for George Vaughtner."

"Yes sir."

"What is going—"

"Come with me, ma'am. There are some things you'll need to know before we can let you in the tower." Steve took Juanta by the arm. Fury may not like this. He wanted answers, but didn't like drawing more people than necessary into the mix.

"Meet you back at the tower, Cap." Tony tucked the phone into his pocket. George Vaughtner lived in Queens. He knew Steve was walking her to a SHIELD agent. Golden Boy had SHIELD wrapped around his finger. Any number of female agents – or fanboys following Coulson's footsteps – would do what he asked.

Moving Juanta was important, considering Liberty's apartment blew up. They didn't want any of her friends, their leads, being silenced.

"Okay, Tony!" Steve called over his shoulder.

* * *

"This is all you have?" Steve looked skeptically at the disc in Tony's hand. The genius was not amused with that response. Rogers wiped his hands on a napkin. He and Pepper left before lunch; he hadn't had a chance to eat. His hunger provided the perfect cover for Maria Hill to meet him at Doo Wop Diner.

Juanta would learn the reason for secrecy inside a secure area. A rogue would-be SHIELD agent and Hammer acting together wasn't a good combination. Steve pushed thoughts of work from his mind, trying to unwind. He was human again! He shouldn't be stressed out!

_That could probably make me turn back into a dog_, Steve mused dryly. Dr. Banner said his hormones would be crazy for a while, and that he'd have to report for more antidote administrations. His metabolism burned up the antidote at an abnormally high rate. He needed more of it to flush out the allergen. "_This _had one hundred hours of footage from the Ramsey house. It runs from 1998 to 2001."

Technology really _had _come a long way! Steve swallowed the bite of hamburger.

"I'd watch it in the lab, but she's in there. Don't want to give Dr. Abbot a bigger mess to clean." he explained.

"You're giving me the first shot?" Steve felt his eyebrows rise. That was surprising. Tony usually liked to be the first one to do everything.

"I thought it was only fair. You know, being her dog and all."

"…thanks." Tony took a laptop from Bruce as he started for the boxes of tea in the cabinet. Steve grinned slightly, always amused by their similar minds. It was more likely that Tony called Banner and arranged this, but the motions were still funny. A laptop was easier to hide if someone walked in on him. He'd been wondering all day what Liberty would do about the scene in her bedroom.

Maybe she was too shy to talk about it? He was. He was now that he had his head on straight, anyways. Steve felt more like himself after another antidote injection. Dr. Banner figured he'd only need a few more until his system was clean.

Steve took his sandwich and milkshake-in-a-cup to his bedroom. It was nice to be surrounded by posters and '40s memorabilia. He loaded the disc, thankful to have been taught that much about computers. Prepared to take notes with a pencil and notepad nearby, Steve let it play. By dinner he may have something for the others.

* * *

"Steve? Dinner's-_shit!_" Natasha had been elected to retrieve him. She was the only one that hadn't completely sat down at the table. The super soldier was oddly quiet. Usually there was an old band playing. Most of the time she found him at a little desk, trying to glean memories from the bits of his folder pinned across the wall.

Occasionally, he sketched.

He was doing none of these things.

Steve stood in a halo of yellow paper confetti. Pieces of a Stark Solutions laptop were scattered across the floor, two big chunks in either hand.

"Steve?" she was answered with an angry grunt. He did _not _want to be messed with. Natasha stepped out of the doorway, watching him throw the pieces away, stomp through the door and down the hall. Following only enough to see which way he turned, Natasha trailed him. Steve would not be joining them; he cut a path to the training room.

Somehow, he managed to avoid stomping holes in Tony's floor. Staying out of it, filing the oddness away for another day, Natasha returned to the table. "I had a feeling it wasn't going to be good." Tony sighed into the meal.

* * *

His body was _starving_! Steve ran through seventeen punching bags; it was a new record. And he could still keep going, metabolism be damned! The noises echoing in his head wouldn't leave him alone! He heard every smack…every snide remark, and every whine.

It was easy to see why Liberty didn't talk much. Steve leaned his head against the new bag, heaving a great sigh. This one was spared his wrath. Thinking about her pain made his own pain more apparent. His chest burned, tightly compressed like it used to be during his asthma attacks.

Sweat oozed out of every pore on his body. His fists ached. _It's time to hang it up for today_, Steve told himself as he wiped his brow. His stomach growled demandingly for food. Loosening the second skin that was his clothes, Steve moved to the kitchen.

Anything would do. He just needed to eat. Steve grabbed a bundled plate of parmesan chicken and green beans, something Pepper seemed to have left for him. Eating filled him, but didn't soothe him. Light streamed out of the refrigerator, catching the dinner table, island, and decorative vase of flowers.

Wordlessly, he picked one up. A violet. Steve shuffled to his room, not hindered by the dark. He changed into clean clothes, resolving to shower in the morning, and headed for the lab. Liberty looked comfortable there with a blanket and pillow, enjoying the cold touch of the table.

Even now, she kicked. Liberty moved in her sleep. Steve thought it was cute. Bruce left the lights dim in case she woke up and wanted to go back to her room. He didn't think she would.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you." Steve whispered, kissing her forehead as he dropped the violet on the table.


	7. Fostering a Good Environment

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Midnight Chamber, Drachegirl14, ThoughtlessRage, and badwolfette21 for reviewing!

To Midnight Chamber: Here it is! More for you to enjoy!

To Drachegirl14: Yes, good things to come! Wonderful, amusing things when the therapist enlists the help of the Avengers to treat her!

To ThoughtlessRage: Glad to see I can pull you in! That means I'm doing alright in my writing! The ending to this story will be a good one, I promise.

To badwolfette21: Yes, yes that needs to happen. Steve will get a chance to scare her. That's as close as it'll get until the end of the story.

Warnings don't apply _as much _to this chapter.

Note: Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs does actually exist. You can find a picture of it on Wikipedia. I don't know if Princess Syndrome actually exists, but I'm using it. Also, this chapter may seem short because it's the first of the "helping" and it was coming out awkward for me. School starts tomorrow, so we'll do updating by ear.

* * *

Six: Fostering a Good Environment

Eliza Abbot combed through her dark hair as she thought. Liberty Bell Ramsey was definitely an interesting patient. Dr. Banner sent her a salvaged disc with hours of footage from her childhood. In it Dr. Abbot discovered how Liberty earned her scars – posture practice, singing corrections, learning math, replies that didn't call for an aggravated swat, honest opinions objecting against what Caroline wanted – and how she broke her wrist. She was thoroughly horrified, but inspired. Liberty had been defending herself during the two years of abuse!

It wasn't often, but the little girl with doll-perfect ringlet curls would snap. Her leverage was always unleashing the secret of her back. Caroline would respond with rage – of course – and lock her in the closet. Liberty came to hate the dark, and fear small spaces, but those things never kept her from fighting back. She just quieted, biding her time until someone opened the door.

Towards the last six months of her eighth year, Liberty devolved into something frightened. Most of her interactions with Caroline involved a swat. Her offenses ranged from forgetting the proper order of dinnerware to aggravating the cuts on her back and ruining a new dress. She broke her wrist defending Juanta, following her and Caroline up the stairs. It was a particularly bad day for Liberty, who had done several pages of math work and wasn't in an agreeable mood, and it had only gotten worse.

The young girl pulled out several colorful, adult words when Caroline asked Juanta what she thought of being displaced for hinting at abuse. Liberty replied with, "I think that's inappropriate you crotchety old bat! You're going to die old and alone because you're a lousy bitch!" Caroline turned fast enough to startle anyone, especially the already cautious Liberty. Her foot slipped off the stair edge and she tumbled down ten steps like a bag of bricks. Caroline went to rush down the stairs, complaining about what Liberty had done, but never made it. Juanta reacted on a 'fight or flight' instinct and jammed the predatory grandmother in her shin with a meaty elbow.

Caroline was stranded at the top of the stairs, her knee throbbing and incapable of the bending needed to descend stairs. Juanta scooped the girl up, rushing to Mr. Ramsey and receiving clearance to take Liberty to the doctor. Ms. Abbot made several notes pertaining to Mr. Ramsey's unawareness of the issue. There were points where Liberty could've told, but didn't. The threat of more beatings kept her quiet.

Being with her grandfather made the time with her grandmother irrelevant, Abbot noticed. Caroline favored Katie, and Donald favored Liberty. While Caroline's favoritism was deliberate, his was not. Katie just didn't like the old pastimes of her grandfather. She spent her time getting facials and manicures with her grandmother while Liberty and Donald stayed home watching black and white movies.

_Can be inclined to better relationships with males_, wrote Abbot. Liberty was curious and vivacious with her grandfather. With Caroline she was mouse-quiet and withdrawn. _Opens up around movies and music_, added Eliza. Her ability to let loose and truly be a child sat well with Eliza.

It meant Liberty understood how she should really be acting. It meant she hadn't lost sight of how childhood should be. She was quick to hug, too. Liberty only hugged Juanta and Donald – and Katie when she was forced – but the fact that she _wanted_ contact couldn't be a better sign. Abused children could go one of two directions: away or towards.

The fact that Liberty went 'towards' would help her progress. Her quest for proper affection meant she realized that Caroline wasn't treating her right. Liberty was struggling to fulfill Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs despite her poor home environment. Eliza had a feeling all of Liberty's problems could be solved with some creative tweaking to Maslow's pyramid. She finished up her notes, expecting Bruce, Tony, and Pepper any minute.

Eliza smiled at them as they walked in at ten thirty.

"Welcome! Please, sit. Did you bring what I asked?" Eliza inquired, hoping for more footage. She and Dr. Banner had been sending e-mails since yesterday. Liberty finally gave the smallest of admittances, and had gone into an emotional nosedive because of it. That was to be expected, as it went against her years of repression, but Dr. Abbot wanted to see how she reacted the day after. How Liberty handed the aftermath was crucial to her plan development.

"She's still in denial." informed Tony.

"If she doesn't verbally deny anything, she finds a way to busy herself." Pepper expounded. Dr. Abbot watched a few moments of footage. Liberty moved quickly and efficiently, cleaning and cooking in the kitchen. Once the cooking was done Liberty sat on the floor with the children, watching them crawl and babble as they used her like a jungle gym. She was alert and always had her hands out to catch their wobbly bodies.

Several attempts to gently bring up her emotional admission were jovially ignored. Or met with questions pertaining to food. "She _is_ in denial." agreed Dr. Abbot, "But she's not busying herself for the sake of avoidance. Liberty's trying to reset her mood by surrounding herself with things that make her happy. It means she's cognizant of her emotional issue; she's trying to fight it on her own."

"But self-help doesn't work for her in this situation. It helps for a little bit…but the rollercoaster is still there." Bruce pointed out. Dr. Johnson taught him that self-help was probably the worst thing that could happen. It seemed alright, and helped the victim feel more "in control", but it fed the dark inner thoughts. Thoughts that turned a person bitter when they wondered why no one helped, why they had to go it alone.

"That's true. And between the footage from Vaughtner and JARVIS, she's on quite the rollercoaster. Liberty shows hope for recovery, though. Juanta was a driving force of kindness in her childhood. Donald was, too. She's not totally gone. This _can_ be fixed."

"So how do we fix it?" Pepper asked. Eliza held up a finger, grabbing a blank sheet of paper. She drew Maslow's Hierarchy of needs.

**Self-Actualization: **morality, creativity, spontaneity, problem solving, lack of prejudice, and acceptance of facts.

**Esteem: **self-esteem, confidence, achievement, respect of others, and respect by others.

**Love/belonging: **friendship, family, sexual intimacy.

**Safety: **security of: body, employment, resources, morality, the family, health, and property.

**Physiological: **breathing, food, water, sex, sleep, homeostasis, excretion.

"This is the usual layout of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Physiological needs represent the most basic, and self-actualization, the most complex and defining. Liberty has slight damage in her self-actualization area, but this can be fixed."

"Which one is damaged?" wondered Pepper, having a feeling it was 'lack of prejudice'.

"The 'lack of prejudice', but this will be fairly easy to fix. Liberty is aware of her aversion to women with dark hair and eyes. This issue can go away once she talks more openly about Caroline. However, that cannot happen until her esteem is fixed." she underlined "esteem".

"That's going to take some work." Tony frowned. He wasn't sure what Liberty considered 'achievement' to be, but knew her confidence was shot to hell. Eliza nodded in agreement.

"She'll need to feel safe to be confident. Her 'respect by others' seems shaky. Liberty perceives her scars as unsightly and shameful because Caroline instilled in her that they resulted from shameful behavior. Convince her that she is respected and safe; her confidence will follow."

"Her safety is largely taken care of. I mean, aside from my condition, Tony and Thor also make rather intimidating forces." Bruce pushed his glasses up on his nose. He'd probably get Liberty to laugh if Hulk smashed a fake Caroline. That would surely boost her mood! The idea had Bruce grinning softly to himself.

"It is, and that's good." Eliza assured. "Her 'love' is the only category that worries me. Liberty's very shy of her body because of the scars. She's basically sexually stifled herself. This is key to her development!"

Tony scratched idly at his beard, thinking. This was a lot to take in, but he was following. "Liberty knows she has an issue, but can't solve it because she's clinging to her childish side."

"I think so." Eliza leaned back into the chair. She was settled in a lower part of Stark Solutions, kept close in case of any new developments. Dr. Abbot was simply laying the foundation for Liberty's sessions. It was much too early – and potentially dangerous – to meet just yet. Her plan was to let the Avengers open her up a bit before they actually met.

If Liberty caught sight of her now, Eliza knew she would bolt. Liberty needed to let go of her bias before anything beneficial could occur. "The cooking generosity and her willingness to sit with the children speaks volumes. Those movies Fury returned also say something. Liberty's unconsciously indulging in endorphin-rich activities to heal the wounds of her childhood.

"Her motions are fueled by what I call Princess Syndrome. She conveys niceness and generosity in hopes that she'll attract a 'prince charming'. Liberty's basically a child waiting for her happy ending."

"So if we get her to date…this will go away?" Tony didn't think it was that cut and dry, but it sounded like they would soon have to play cupid.

"_No_! No, no, no! _Don't _do that. If you throw Liberty into the dating world she'll clam up. Princess Syndrome is a very delicate thing; she has to make her own happy ending or it won't work."

"Well…what do you want us to do?" Pepper threw out her hands, helpless. She'd been following the discussion, but no concrete solution had been presented. Dr. Abbot smiled.

"I want you to help her in your own way. If I give you a plan, she'll realize something's not right. It'll seem staged and she'll be suspicious, if not disappointed because you're not making your own effort. Giving your team the chance to heal her will provide an organic recovery environment." Eliza explained.

"It's like positive enforcement." mused Dr. Banner.

"Yes, and you'll likely be met with a lot of resistance. Extracting her from the rules and mannerisms Caroline taught will be a difficult battle. It'll leave Liberty feeling confused and wondering if she's mentally ill because of her change. This is _completely normal_, I want you to remember, because you're rewiring her entirely."

"And…how do we prepare for that? Do you have a book on it?" Pepper questioned. It sounded like there was going to be a lot of panic involved. And crying. Emotional wrecks made her stress. She'd already had too many to count with Tony constantly playing Iron Man. How many more could she handle?

"I don't think you _can _prepare because it's an internal fight _she _has to wage. Just be there to support her." shrugged Dr. Eliza.

"Alright. For this plan, what should we focus on? We'll be visiting you in rotations so everyone is kept in the loop, but this is just to have something to bring back." Bruce laced his fingers together, waiting for an answer.

"Love, comfort, and confidence." said Eliza without skipping a beat. "I'd like to see your plan by the end of the day, if that's alright."

"We'll do that." Tony promised.

"Make a note that I'll expect reports after each session, however you choose to approach her as individuals." Dr. Eliza walked them to the door of her donated office. They seemed antsy to return home.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Dr. Abbot." Bruce shook her hand.

"Not a problem, Bruce. Good luck!"

Dr. Abbot found a paper waiting for her when she returned from lunch. She blew out a sigh. It was either from SHIELD or Bruce. A wave of relief swept through her when it turned out to be Bruce. Her client list was packed enough already, and her only other client was Steve Rogers! _People are interesting creatures_, she grinned.

"Good thing Fury knows I have unorthodox methods." Eliza snorted between giggles, leaning back in her chair as she undid a tight and bothersome bun. The Avengers certainly created an interesting itinerary.

_Thor – Drinking_

_Hulk – Smashing_

_Bruce – Yoga/meditation_

_Cori – __Burlesque_

_Pepper – __Cosmopolitan_

_Clint – People watching/Park_

_Tony – Dress up (not what you think, Dr. Abbot‼)_

_Natasha – Poker (yes, you read right. Don't question me.)_

* * *

"Come, Liberty! We shall drink to celebrate!" Thor invited, grabbing a specially crafted mug from Tony's bar.

"What are we celebrating?"

"Anything! We have our friends, we've had a succulent meal, and little ones to amuse us!" Thor filled the mug with beer. It wasn't mead, but Midgardians had many other things for him to try.

"Oh, well…I don't really drink." Liberty declined indirectly. She really didn't. The champagne was hard enough to stomach. All the socials and nasty variations of champagne pretty much wilted her desire to drink.

"You must at least try it! We shall sing of Asgard and make merry!" Thor insisted. His plan was failing miserably! Quite a shame, really, because it made perfect sense to him. Hearty drinking signified camaraderie, happiness, and success in Asgard. It was used to unwind in the afterglow of victory.

Liberty needed all of these things. He'd come to understand that drinking made amusing times on Midgard, too. She could use some happy times! "I don't want to make merry." Liberty grinned, "I'd want something different, like Poppy or Valencia!" _And I'm sure you'd kill me_, Liberty thought.

"Pardon?" Thor blinked.

Liberty laughed. She hadn't had a good laugh in a while. It was mean to poke fun at a man from another planet, but it was fun! Tony got it, and she could hear him giggling in the kitchen. The last set of giggles faded as Julienne grabbed at her mouth, trying to feel the noise.

He shook his head, continuing. "All I ask of you is one drink, Liberty."

"I'll take a _sip_." she yielded. Pepper was coming for the twins, meaning she'd have no one to play with. The kids made good movie partners. That, and Liberty liked them because children couldn't judge. Their smiles were infectious and it was just impossible to be anything but happy around a toothless baby.

Thor opened a beer, handing it to her. Liberty instantly scrunched her nose up in disapproval; a few drops was enough for her. It was bitter and just…just…_gross_! "Hoo!" She breathed out, "No thank you!"

"Come now, Liberty! That was hardly enough of a taste!" Thor objected.

"Here," Natasha wiggled her eyebrows at Thor, "wash it down with water."

"Why is it in a shot glass?" Liberty looked at it. Clear, like water should be. It didn't seem threatening.

"You don't need that much to wash the taste out." she promised. Without thinking, Liberty knocked it back. She instantly regretted it. Her throat ached and an ungodly burning slithered up from her stomach. The trickery had Clint whooping and praising Natasha as Liberty coughed.

"Oh god! _Eww_! Give me that! I need something to stop the burning!" she scrambled for the previously offered beer. Pepper chuckled, taking Julienne from her as she gulped the beer. It was still bitter, but calmed the burning. Thor smiled brightly, helping her up.

"Come, now we shall drink and rejoice!" Thor sat her in a stool and swigged his beer. He began an Asgardian celebration song, starting slow for the Midgardian. Liberty was mildly amused at how English and understandable it was. She expected gibberish and shouting, but Thor kept it fairly contained. Once Thor realized she was only mumbling and hitting a few notes he nudged her with a wide foot.

The force sent her spinning in the stool. It left Liberty dizzy and giddy. Or was that the beer? She slid out of it like water, crashing to the floor. Liberty chortled at herself, leaning up to grab the spinning support in vain.

Thor picked her up by the back of her shirt. "She's been felled by your Midgardian brew." he mused.

"Am…am not! I 'lipped. I didn't fall!" Liberty defended herself. It made Thor laugh harder. "Let's…let's sing that song again!" she used Thor's shoulder as a support, coming to stand on her stool. This was the only way she could touch his shoulder. Somewhere between the verses he'd mentioned closeness was common with singing.

She didn't want to insult his customs.

"She's so drunk." Tony grinned from ear-to-ear. Clint resisted the urge to scratch his nose, not entirely sure if Thor's plan was working. Liberty was certainly more talkative, but he doubted a hangover would translate into confidence.

"Enough of Asgard! I am on Midgard, teach me Midgardian songs!"

"You…you ever–-_hic-_—heard "Oh, You Beautiful Doll"?"

"I don't recall hearing anything of dolls." Thor said after a moment of thought. They didn't even have songs of toys on Asgard! Kids got excited about their toys, but never sang glorious tunes about them.

"You _haven't_? Wow, you're missing out! Okay…it's…it's from _For Me and My Gal_." Liberty hiccupped before singing. She swayed against Thor, trying to mimic the movement from the scene. The girl lost her place and fell into him, giggling because her feet got tangled.

"Wondrous music!" Thor complimented, "Still your tongue. I shall return!" he promised. Liberty's three beers had taken a toll on her. She knew Thor left, but only caught on a few minutes later. Liberty hummed the melody of "Oh, You Beautiful Doll" while she waited, shakily and absently pacing the bar top.

* * *

Steve winced reflexive as Dr. Banner withdrew the needle. Bruce figured three doses spread throughout the day would cut down on his unwanted impulses. He'd been doing well all day, Bruce was happy to see. The doctor suspected it was because he had an embarrassing incident yesterday.

Bruce had only learned of the incident through JARVIS. Steve was too mortified to speak of it. He tried to console him by pointing out that Liberty still spoke to him, but Steve was unhappy. The super soldier was used to being proper and contained, not at the mercy of his own body. _And I'm not now_, Steve thought thankfully as he flexed his arm.

He wouldn't need another shot until the morning. Obeying the doctor's suggestion of eating with the shot – thereby increasing his human hormones as his body sought to break down the food – Steve meandered to the kitchen. Liberty had made dinner for them, which he thought was pleasant. Whether she did it out of genuine want, or as a coping mechanism to the slipup, he didn't know. She made tomato soup with a side of grilled cheese.

It was rather nostalgic. He dunked the grilled cheese, tracing invisible patterns across the soup. Steve smiled, unable to hate Thor's jovial rumbling. It was a bit loud for his tastes, but at least someone was enjoying themselves. The super soldier couldn't bring himself to feel much bliss since the incident.

Now that he reflected on it as a person, as logical Steve Rogers, it was a bit embarrassing to be put in such a position by a woman. By touch. He didn't totally regret it; Dr. Eliza told him those types of feelings and situations could happen in life. Steve just didn't know how to feel about it because seventy years was a hell of a gap between desires and societal protocol. _THAT IS MINE! _Dog-Steve spread through him suddenly, drenching every nerve and muscle with white-hot rage as Steve finally decoded the image of Thor dancing with Liberty.

He tried desperately to shush Dog Steve, to explain that it was harmless dancing, but Dog Steve won. Steve was walking over to Thor as he sat her down and promised to return. _This is mine. I don't share. She is just for me. I was there before _he_ was._

"Most amusing, is it not?" Thor chuckled.

"If by 'amusing' you mean _dangerous_, then yes!" Steve replied coolly. Thor was honestly surprised. He'd only seen Steve speak like that to Tony. It was equal parts admonishing, annoyed, and sarcastic.

"I…I did not mean to offend you, Steven. I was merely trying to share my delight."

"It's—it's fine." Steve put his hand on Thor's elbow as an apology. It was hard having more than one voice in his head.

"'Tis alright. You will soon find yourself and be as you once were." Thor clapped him on the back. It was just the push he needed to find the bar. Clint and Tony were occupied in the kitchen – Steve made sure of that before he approached the table – and that pleased him. More for him. He intended to stay with Liberty until someone came to handle her.

Steve wasn't sure he was qualified to handle tipsy women, despite Dog Steve's pleasure concerning the situation. Strains of "Oh, You Beautiful Doll" were comforting, though. "Good, you're back!" Liberty stood up again, gripping his shoulders as she hummed. She had her eyes closed, swaying to the melody. His face was on fire.

She hadn't even realized the switch. Her hair drifted along her shoulders, bouncing with the movement. Steve thought she was doing alright for singing a male part. He could feel her ten tiny fingers gently pressing over his shoulders. Liberty had the classic crooner's voice, rich with vibrato and clear tone. "Let me put my arms about you, I don't want to live without you!"

"Oh, you beautiful doll. You great, big, beautiful doll." Steve sang back quietly. He'd seen the movie before the war. It was one of the few he actually remembered. Bucky tried to set him up on a double-date with that movie, but it didn't work. "If you ever leave me, how my heart would ache. I want to hug you, but I fear you'd break…" Liberty's eyes opened up to him, glassy and bright blue.

She flashed him a crooked grin, her breath smelling of beer and vodka. And something cherry. _Is she wearing lip gloss_? Steve wondered. _"_You—she tapped his nose with a finger—are not Thor."

"He's relieving his bladder." Steve informed.

"I see. You would make a big, beautiful doll, though. Good lashes…" Liberty whispered, drawing close to really look at his blonde lashes. Steve's heart galloped. "Nice cheekbones. Pretty eyes."

_Stay calm. Dr. Eliza said panic is totally normal. Just…let…her kiss—_

"You're drunk." Steve blurted. Liberty blinked slowly as she pulled back, processing that.

"I…only a little." she pinched her fingers together with a bashful smile.

"C'mon, you need to go lay down." Steve pulled her into his arms. Drunken stumbling didn't always lead to the right room.

"But—" Liberty was set to protest, but didn't want to. Steve was rather warm. She gave a delighted hum and set her head down. Good, strong heartbeat and gentle breathing. There was no better lullaby.

Steve grinned slightly, pushing open his door with a foot. Liberty was already asleep. It was like putting a child down. Her soft, curly hair tickled his nose and cheeks before he laid her down. His room was closer; it was the logical choice.

It had _nothing _to do with Dog Steve and the habit of lying down with his owner.

Settling in next to her, Steve listened to the sound of his heart. It roared in his chest. He could feel his pulse pounding against the chord in his neck. Her body had his bed sheets burning…or maybe it was just him. His stomach coiled tightly, seeming to draw his cock up against the crotch of his sweatpants.

The super soldier gripped his bed sheets, stifling a groan. Dr. Banner said his sense of smell would be heightened for a few days, and now he had proof. He could smell the alcohol pluming out with her soft, slow breaths. She had a unique scent all her own, enhanced by the warmth of his sheets and floral perfume on her neck. Coupled with his own familiar smell and the scent of his pre-cum, Steve felt dazed by the potent mix.

His thighs trembled. The friction of his sweatpants was ungodly. Carefully rolling around – searching for a position to alleviate the ache - wasn't helping. Stilling the roll of his hips against the bed, Steve's blue eyes slid shut while the spasms rocked his body. He was pretty sure Dr. Eliza classified that as some type of frottage.

Whatever it was, it felt great. Covered by a thin sheen of sweat, Steve relaxed into the sheets. He inhaled a long, cool breath. Slightly embarrassed and buzzing with bliss, Steve fished a clean pair of underwear and pants from his drawer.

_Beautiful doll, indeed_. Steve draped an arm over Liberty, toes curling gleefully at the fact she would never know. It was an advancement Dr. Abbot would be proud of. He had a feeling Liberty Ramsey would be just what the doctor ordered.


	8. Odd Orders

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Grey Vipointe, amy, and pizzagirl for reviewing the last chapter! May update again tomorrow since my college class is over in the early morning. Depends on how I feel and whether or not I have to run errands. By the way, I'm feeling _much _better. I'm finally kicking my horrendous cold to the curb!

To amy: your suggestion is interesting, but Dog Steve's going to disappear within the next chapter or two, so it likely won't be used. Thank you for contributing, though!

Let me know what you guys thought of the Steve/bed scene! That was a rushed – maybe weak – taste xD. I need to figure out my style for him. Bruce was much easier to do, for whatever reason.

* * *

Seven: Odd Orders

_To: Dr. Eliza Abbot_

_From: Bruce Banner_

_Subject: Thor's Approach_

_I know you expect Thor to be penning this, but I'm saving him AND you the headache (trust me). Liberty begrudgingly drank with Thor and consumed roughly three beers. While I can't say that she was more confident, the subject showed a lighter and more carefree disposition. She sang and danced, trading songs with Thor. The subject smiled more._

_Any in-depth analysis was interrupted by Steve Rogers. He seems to display protective instincts (which may or may not be owed to the flushing of the dog allergen Fury told you about) and removed her from the environment. The two had a brief exchange before he carried her off. Thor would like to include that Steve was particularly stressed and/or short about Liberty's condition. Though Thor could not confirm the sight, JARVIS catalogued Steve depositing Liberty in his room._

_The AI believes Steve…relieved himself…while she slept. This report is steadily focusing on Steve, but I feel compelled to include his presence. He led Liberty to the tower, and she took him in during the beginning of his transformation. These two can help each other, I think. In the context of a character study versus our earlier discussion of Princess Syndrome, Steve seems to be the perfect candidate to reintroduce and reform Liberty's personality._

_She, in turn, could be the gentle shift he needs to truly recover from his cryogenic stasis. Liberty displays fondness for music from his era, and was raised with the strict propriety women were supposed to have back then. Her personality differs widely from that of the marketed woman's image common in media. This may help Steve feel less alienated, I think. This is all we – Thor and I – could make of the incident._

_Regards,_

_Dr. Banner._

Eliza tucked the report in Liberty's newly made folder, slipping a copy into Steve's before shutting the cabinet. Mr. Rogers was due any minute. She didn't want him catching Liberty's name in print. If he did, the super soldier would probably clam up and make the session difficult. Steve didn't like talking in-depth about women; most of his memories were tied to two very important, deceased women: his mother and Peggy.

"Good morning, Dr. Abbot." Steve stepped in after knocking; two long steps bringing his knees together and keeping his toes facing outward. _Punctual as ever_, mused Eliza as she gestured for him to sit. Obediently, Steve sat. He never slouched, just sat calmly with his shoulders back and chin raised up slightly.

"Hi, Steve. Thank you for coming." Eliza smiled.

"You said you wanted to see me?" Steve swallowed. _Oh god, oh god, oh god…please don't ask about last night! _he prayed. Dr. Banner gave him a bit of the antidote before his appointment, cutting down on the possibility he'd say something outlandish. Dog Steve had a way of making him very blunt and honest. He didn't want Dog Steve helping him comment on Dr. Abbot's sizeable bosoms or – god forbid – making him bite her as a response to an accidentally intrusive question.

She nodded absently, raking brown eyes over him. He was trying to withhold a blush, she could tell. It pooled lightly against his pink cheeks and highlighted his blue eyes. "I just…wanted to see how you were feeling after getting your body back." partially lied Dr. Abbot. Using 'How do you feel Liberty?' as her first question would be detrimental to the rest of the session.

"Oh." he seemed rather relieved at that. She watched his shoulders relax, nearly missing it within the confines of his layered apparel. "Well…it feels a little odd. Dr. Banner's antidote is flushing it out bit by bit, but I'm not myself yet." Steve admitted.

"Is it a _good _"odd" or a _bad _"odd"?" she pressed gently.

"I don't know how to classify it. As with anything, there are perks and setbacks. I'm just not used to how it makes me feel. The thoughts and impulses aren't something I can't control; they shoot through in an instant. For a brief second or two I'm completely powerless, but I'm always there when it's done." Steve explained.

"And how does that make you feel, being there when those moments pass?"

Most would scratch their hair or rub it. Steve did not. Dr. Eliza saw him rub his neck. It fit his tidy nature and near-compulsion to have things as they always were. She had a feeling his army-cultured desire for order was the source of his emotional fluctuations.

"A bit embarrassed. I would…I would _never _act that way! I mean, Tony's enough of a child. I don't need to be one, too!"

"You consider yourself a child in those moments, Mr. Rogers?"

"When I reflect on what Dog Steve has done it…I feel like I had no sense of improper or proper. No concept of rules. It's like being ridiculously fascinated by everything. Or being excited for no particular reason."

"Do these "Dog Steve" moments happen constantly, or are they triggered?"

He thought long and hard. Dr. Abbot watched his eyes drift absently to the framed diploma and awards hanging overhead. Silence lapsed for a few moments.

"Triggered." decided Steve. "The first one I had was when Liberty took me in. She was trying to find me a name, petting me on the stomach. When she stopped...I—I wanted more petting."

"That's perfectly understandable." assured Dr. Abbot.

"R…really?"

"Of course! Aside from dogs _liking _petting, humans crave touch in times of stress. You, as a human, had just undergone something terribly startling! Seeking out comforting touch is _natural_, Steven. Anymore moments?"

"Well, the muffins." Steve remembered. He'd stuck to human thoughts until the muffins arrived.

"The muffins?" parroted Dr. Abbot, confused.

"Oh, uh, Liberty made muffins for breakfast the morning after taking me in. I wanted some. It was human food…I was excited."

"That's also fine." Dr. Abbot promised. "A person wants to eat normal food. If any sane person was offered kibble they would jump at the first chance to have real food, too."

"Another one was when I first reentered Stark Tower. I knocked Tony down and…uh, licked him in the face." Dr. Abbot let herself chuckle at his bright red cheeks. Fury warned her time and time again that Stark and Steve weren't to be put in her office simultaneously. Their relationship was largely love-hate. To hear him admit that he licked Tony showed that Steve wasn't as strict as Tony claimed he was.

"Tony's your fellow Avenger. Under the distress of being separated _and_ changed, licking is acceptable. I think, inherently, as a human, you knew he was looking for you. All of them were, and they were all worried about you."

"Then there was the lab. When Fury recovered Narcozi's tag from Liberty's apartment."

"You thought you were a "good dog"?"

"Yes." Steve flushed again.

"Dogs can be proud, too. Instead of being trained, however, your pride originated from a matter deemed important by your human mind."

"I also tried to bury the tag in Liberty's apartment. I consider that a dog moment. People don't try to bury stuff like that."

"But they like to keep it in a special place, which you couldn't do in a dog body." pointed out Abbot.

"The last one I can think of was when Liberty was singing. It was yesterday…she was a bit drunk and dancing with Thor. I just…I mean…Dog Steve didn't like it."

"Dog Steve didn't, or you didn't?"

Steve didn't answer. She didn't expect him to answer everything, anyways. If he did, they wouldn't have multiple sessions. He seemed particularly mortified by revealing that. Consoling him was important if she wanted anything else out of him.

"It could be because you see Liberty as yours. She took you in during your time of need, and, subconsciously, I think you're trying to repay her for that. Deep within every man is the primal urge to protect women."

"So…am I alright or is there something wrong with me? Dog Steve makes me feel weird." mumbled Steve dejectedly. A soldier was always prepared. Always sound. Having his brain split between Dog Steve and Human Steve had him off his game.

"You're fine. I think Dog Steve is an expression of your restricted wants and emotions. You're always the leader and soldier, Steve. From what I understand of your file, you've always been very mature. You never gave yourself time to dally like men should before they grow up.

"Dog Steve breaks those boundaries to give you the chances you never took!"

"Will he go away if I…indulge in them?"

"Do you feel settled or "normal" when you do?"

"…yes."

"Then yes. But your lackadaisical schedule could be to blame, too."

"My schedule? I don't really have one."

"That's the point! You're used to being busy, being the symbol of the Avengers! This spell as a canine nixed all your usual duties as an active protector. Your body and mind may not know what to do with the excess energy after being used to such a packed schedule."

"What do you suggest?"

"Gradual reintroduction to your participation in the Avengers. That should level you out. I'd like you to try that, then come back and see me. If you feel any other changes, or don't think that's working, don't hesitate to make another session, okay?"

"Yes ma'am. Thank you, Dr. Abbot."

* * *

"GIRL SMASH!" ordered Hulk excitedly, breaking another wooden creation. Liberty wasn't as easy to nickname as Cori, so she was simply "girl". Her name couldn't be shortened as easily. He gave a demonstrative punch to a nearby cinderblock that crumbled on contact. Wincing, not a fan of loud noises, Liberty put her hands up near her face.

The explosion of dust couldn't be healthy for her lungs. "I think I'll just…hit the punching bag." Liberty inched towards the stitched remains of said bag. This "Smash Room" was made of things she couldn't begin to measure up to, much less destroy. Hulk snorted, only mildly approving, and shifted his weight to watch her. Bruce and Dr. Abbot entrusted him with bringing out her inner animal.

Bruce thought Liberty could overcome Caroline's rigid practices by being able to express herself. As a basic creature with many enemies, Hulk knew smashing could do the soul good. It could regulate emotions and cleanse the dark weight hiding within. Liberty had no way of alleviating the weight if she didn't strike, though. Her blows were weak and lacked heart.

"Not smashing!" Hulk shook his head disappointedly. "Girl need smash!"

"B-but I'm punching the punching bag!" Liberty pointed out, throwing another left hook to prove herself.

"This _Smash Room! _Things need be smashed!" Hulk dropped his left fist into his open right hand for emphasis. His green eyes combed the room filled with metal, plastic, concrete, and wood. There had to be _something _in here she could take her rage out on! After Liberty had been knocked on her ass by the ricochet of a partially broken piece of wood, Hulk realized she needed something more her size. Everything in here was meant to suit him, and therefore remained a worthy foe to her petite stature.

The punching bag barely moved beneath her gloved hands. Dummies of straw and cloth dangled from the ceiling. Hulk liked them up there because it reminded him of the Chitauri invasion. Having to reach and jump for things helped him feel free. Like he was in a natural, open space.

He tugged one down, muscles rippling as the rope snapped in his grip. Hulk lightly tossed the creation towards Liberty. Of course, he forgot these things were Hulk-sized. The lumpy cloth figure fell like a rock, pinning Liberty to the floor. "How much straw is in this?" wheezed Liberty, shoving aside the frumpy head to breathe properly.

Crudely drawn crayon eyes stared at her as the head flopped forward. Liberty felt like she was trying to disarm a live bomb. Figuring out the exact pattern and process to remove the weight was difficult. "Girl smash dummy! Take anger out on dummy!"

"But…I'm not really angry." that was a lie. She was. Liberty was just going about her anger in a different way; she used it to fuel productivity and fitness. Her anger was channeled into succeeding without Caroline Ramsey's help. Exhausting her rage came in the form of defying Caroline Ramsey by doing whatever she wanted.

The shackles were broken now, and had been for quite some time. Her only real rage came from staying silent. If anything, speaking would cure her better than hitting the dummies. Destruction had nothing to do with her healing. Liberty idly buried the boxing gloves into the dummy, watching its body rise like some kind of waterbed as she poked around the tied off sections representing its limbs.

"I…I just can't. It's mean. Hitting just to hit is wrong." Liberty frowned. She would know. It wasn't right to make the doll an inanimate version of herself. One Caroline Ramsey was enough for the world. The idea of bludgeoning the doll became even harder once she made the comparison between her childhood and the task at hand.

"Just because girl hit doesn't mean she mean. Nice people need smash sometimes, too. Tony smash. Tony smash work garage when making suit. _Steve _smash, too." Hulk took a break to sit next tiny Liberty, hoping she would see it was not despicable to let loose once in a while. She was like a speck in his massive room. Being part Banner, having shared Banner's childhood memories, he realized the issue she was having. Abused children could adopt aggressive behavior easily, but Bruce and Liberty were in the opposite group. They weren't abusers; they were givers and helpers.

Big Green did have a point, Liberty had to acknowledge. Tony and Steve were well-adjusted individuals, and they exercised all the time! That's what _this _was – exercise, not abuse. She just had a hard time thinking of it like that. Knowing normal people could do this kind of thing and not get caught up in remorse or hesitation was oddly comforting.

"If not comfortable with smash, pretend." offered Hulk. "Hulk like to take dummy, say dummy is Puny God, and _smash_!" he plucked the straw doll up like it was a feather. Liberty ducked as he began to fling it from side to side. Seams popped and straw clumped rapidly in effort to absorb the force. He wasn't even _trying _to bash the doll; it was startling and stunning.

Hulk's exuberance ended up dislocating one of the cloth arms. The dummy flopped to the ground as small explosion of straw flew into the air. Liberty couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her as pieces nested in her hair. It was like snow, but it wasn't. Something about it was just…_funny_.

Like the rare, quick pillow fights she and Juanta used to have. One of the throw pillows busted in the living room once. Caroline was furious, but hadn't been able to prove what happen because Juanta stuffed her uniform with the feathers. It was their secret for the rest of the day; Juanta danced like a chicken every time Caroline had her back turned.

Only Liberty knew why, and the sight made her laugh every time.

Hulk was pleased to see her giggling. He pinched straw between his fingers as best he could and threw it at her. Liberty swatted it away, brushing herself off. "Smash good, see? Smash funny." Hulk proved.

"Maybe a little." sighed Liberty blissfully with pink cheeks. Hulk purposefully stomped on the dummy as he stood. Straw burst from the doll, coating Liberty instantly. She chuckled.

"Now girl can smash. Doll not so heavy." Hulk nudged it towards Liberty with his foot. She grabbed the drooping head, wondering what to do with the ruined dummy. It wasn't smashing, but Liberty had fun jumping on the doll. Jumping was harmless, really, and let her be rambunctious like Caroline never allowed.

And, if she was honest with anyone, she could pretend to be jumping on Caroline. Liberty paused, stepping tentatively on the dummy's flattened midsection. "Does this make me a bad person?" she looked up to Hulk. It was fun, but she felt a tad guilty for secretly enjoying the dummy losing its stuffing.

"Hulk not think so."

"Good enough for me." Liberty shrugged, staring at the head and hopping her way down to its toes. The dummy seemed to smile in approval with its tomato red lipstick lips. It was another sign that this was fun rehabilitation and nothing more. No dark memories could be roused from this harmless play. Thoroughly flattened and weightless, Liberty knotted the arms and legs together to make it into a sash-like object.

She carefully ascended the replica skyscraper in the back left corner. Her mother's twin sister, Janie, let her play like a reckless child during rare visits. If it wasn't for the Callari side of the family, Liberty wouldn't know basic – potentially life-saving – skills like climbing. Of course, carrying out such mischief was inappropriate and not what girls do, according to Caroline. Because the Callari children and relatives had illnesses ranging from cancer to Alzheimer's, Caroline gained sole custody of Liberty on the basis that no Callari was capable of childcare.

The last time Liberty saw a Callari had to be around her sixth birthday. She bounced between the Callaris and Ramseys while Caroline's attorney and the man in charge of her parent's Last Will and Testament reviewed the options. Not that she was old enough to know what was going on. Much less remember any of it. Liberty only knew – definitively – that she'd visited the Callari relatives for six weeks, went to the Ramsey's for two, found herself at the Callari's for three additional weeks, and then ended up at Caroline's house.

All of the Callaris, all of her happiness, vanished like smoke on the breeze. She returned to the present when something cracked audibly. Hulk was tall enough to reach the skyscraper without effort. He was rescuing the makeshift, stranded civilian from the pointed top when it began to break. Liberty's suspended weight, combined with Hulk's muscled arm, had compromised the structure.

Hulk had a fleeting moment of panic. Just _grabbing _her wouldn't do. Someone of Liberty's size would condense in his hand with the slightest of squeezes. Raising his leg to stifle her fall would likely break her back. Immediately dropping his hands to form a protective cradle, Hulk waited for her to land. She never did.

"Let myself in. Hope it's okay. JARVIS thought you guys were winding down." smiled Steve sheepishly. Liberty was dazed, surprised to meet a soft landing. Steve's hands were firm and warm, but soft. She could hear his heart beating calmly and strongly through his jacket and shirt.

"Th-thanks." Liberty blushed. Steve nodded, casting the husk of a dummy aside like the cloth it was. He absently brushed bits of straw from his neatly combed hair.

"What Steve come in for? Steve want smash, too?" Hulk squatted to see the tiny blonde. According to Bruce, Steve was supposed to be meeting with Dr. Abbot. "Time for Steve's shot?"

"Shot? What shot? Are you sick?"

"I…uh...it—it's nothing." assured Steve quickly. Hulk widened his eyes slightly, unaware that Liberty didn't know of the injections. He turned away, poking at the broken tip. Pretending not to hear them cut down on embarrassing Steve more than he already had.

"What _are _you here for?" Liberty couldn't help but wonder. She shouldn't bother him with a question since he just saved her from getting a bruise – or worse – but it slipped out. "Want something to eat?" teased Liberty curiously, poking him in his bellybutton. Steve gave a low, mortified grunt-hum that reminded her of Captain.

"A-actually…I'd like to speak with you outside, if that's alright."

"Sure." _and I'm sweaty. Great. Wish I could freshen up first. _Liberty found herself thinking. Erratic jumping on the dummy and trying to exercise adequately with Hulk's massive equipment easily helped her work up a sweat. She was a bit embarrassed to be lightly coated in such stink. Women were supposed to smell nice, after all. Steve didn't seem to notice as he led her just outside the automatic door.

"Feel free to say no…" he started, holding his hands up and spreading them out like he was trying to smooth over whatever news was to follow. Liberty grinned crookedly, amused at how he was already thinking ahead. With his broad shoulders, slim waist, and powerful legs he was easy to look at. His gentle consideration seemed ill-fit for such a physique until she accounted for his kind blue eyes. Steve could easily be some sort of salesman and succeed.

He unknowingly sucked people – like her – in with those baby blues. A downplayed musk hung in the air, revived by his movements. It was rich, but not heavy. Steve smelled clean and purely male. "…but I'd like…I mean, I wanted to know if you'd accompany me to a parade?"

"A…a parade?" stuttered Liberty. Where was a parade coming from? Was this Tony's way of repaying her for the coffee? "Why is there—"

"People saw me in the park, apparently. They know I'm not missing anymore. To honor my return, Senator Sterns wants to hold a parade."

"But why do you want me to—wait, why were you in the park?"

_Because I was tracking down Juanta_, Steve wanted to say. He knew better. Finding Juanta was supposed to be a surprise. It would stay that way, too.

"Just…finding time for my motorcycle again. You know, since I'm not a dog anymore."

"_You _have a motorcycle?" Liberty couldn't easily picture it. Steve Rogers seemed much too proper and sweet for a motorcycle. Or maybe it looked that way because people thought of gangs, leather, tattoos, and large muscles when mentioning motorcycles. The idea of Steve Rogers on a motorcycle made her laugh, though. It was like a sexy smear to his golden boy image. "What a _naughty _thing for you to own, Mr. Rogers." joked Liberty as she flashed him a crooked grin, rolled forward and back on the balls of her feet, and tucked her arms beneath her tiny breasts.

Steve flushed slightly. Liberty surely stressed "naughty" to tease him, but likely hadn't meant it in the way he heard it. Her tone was playful and sultry when she told him he was naughty. Some weird part of Steve liked that. He was slightly alarmed by this, mostly because it was _not _time for another injection.

Dog Steve couldn't be blamed for the twitch of arousal constricting his khakis. He briefly wondered how his life would differ if he _were _a bad boy. Would he have gone into the army? Been selected to become the first super soldier? Bad boys would certainly get women – a twisted fact he didn't totally understand in the forties – and that may serve him well here.

A powerful – nearly illogical – urge to _want _Liberty assailed him. The emotion coursed through him endlessly, strong enough to imbue every doctored cell with heat. He couldn't audibly define it – refused to – but in the back of his mind Steve heard it clearly: want, need, take, protect, _mine_. She was remarkable, really, acting as she did despite her upbringing. Liberty was a woman without a man; someone who deserved a significant other.

He wanted more than anything to be that man. Part of Steve didn't know why…couldn't understand why. The other part of him – Little Steve, pre-Super Soldier Steve – knew why. She was perfect for who he had been. Liberty's penchant for old music and keeping the team fed called back to his time, a place he sorely missed.

She was healing his wounds. Easing him into the current time by being a modern woman who indulged in an era she never experienced. It was cute, really. Admirable, even. He appreciated her for it, even if everything was unintentional.

And, of course, he was a sucker for a starlet smile. Her grin was typically gentile with a hint of impishness, but it was killer all the same. "It…it was a joke, Steve." Liberty stammered. His brain started up again, processing her hesitancy.

"Of course! I know, I know. I…uh, sorry." Steve cleared his throat. "_Anyways_, I was wondering if you'd accompany me to the parade?"

"But…why? People think I'm dead. I kind of don't mind that, honestly." Caroline couldn't sink her claws into her if she was dead. Not that she tried since Liberty claimed her independence years ago. The young girl wouldn't doubt that Caroline would try to reclaim her in front of the cameras. It would seem ridiculous not to after the reports of visitors weeping over her makeshift memorial. Hulk's smashing may have inspired a giddiness in her now, but Liberty knew that would change the moment she saw Caroline.

She felt better after yelling some truthful, long withheld things in the kitchen. Hollering and smashing was no match for the real thing, however. Caroline Ramsey had a way about her that made Liberty tremble. The old woman had secret, piercing looks and an uncanny talent to slither out of trouble. To redirect blame and paint Liberty to be a stumbling idiot.

There wasn't a person alive who liked running into their bully. No one liked being made a fool of, either. Steve's blue eyed gaze softened. His face lit up in a smile that screamed simplicity. It was like he'd won something, or had thrown down a really good card he'd been saving for a special occasion.

"You took me in." Steve let his hand rest gently on Liberty's little shoulder. "If you didn't call me over, if you hadn't saved me from the woman with the broom, who knows what would've happened? I could've ended up at the pound, or worse!" he pointed out. "People are going to be celebrating the return of a hero tomorrow. I'd like it if they could see _my _hero."

He was corny. So corny. But…Liberty found that incredibly endearing. Steve was sincere about it, too, which made the whole thing worse. Denying that sweet smile and those fixed, sparkling blue eyes would surely be the cruelest act in the world.

How could she do that to him? She couldn't, and she knew it. Steve seemed to know it, too. His lips twitched slightly as his grin grew. He was annoyingly gorgeous and ridiculously persuasive for someone who did so little.

"I'll even get down on your level to ask you _personally_." he jested good-naturedly, sending his weight into his left knee as it met the ground. Liberty blushed. She never thought she'd see the day where a man would kneel before her. Not her, the girl with the secrets and scarred back.

"I hope your pants rip." Liberty blurted, not really thinking. She needed something to distract her from the intensifying blush. Needed something to break up the seriousness and ruin the spell of his captivating eyes as they threatened to pull her in and sweetly drown her. Steve chuckled, nose wrinkling slightly with his smile.

"Will you, Liberty, come to the parade with me?" Steve asked. Liberty tried not to shiver, able to feel his breath on her cheek. His eyes were hypnotic. Big, long fingers moved delicately to her wrists, drawing her in to meet him. There was little space between them now.

Contact was useful in persuasion, Steve knew. He hoped she said yes. If she declined, well, he had this moment. His broad hands and long fingers were like silk against her arms; Steve waited for the slightest hint of acceptance. While waiting he enjoyed the smell of her hair, the fact that he could make her blush so deeply. Her blue eyes caught his in a blank stare, tipping him off about her drifting mind.

Mustering some bravery from the Captain, Steve pulled her in a little closer. The movement would refocus her attention, and he'd be able to read her eyes. Having her lips close enough to kiss was just a bonus. "Well?" murmured Steve curiously, grinning slightly as her lips twitched receptively to his breath. His eyes threatened to become half-lidded as the temptation of flicking his tongue out to taste her crossed his mind.

Would she be sweet like the peppermint products in her hair? Or taste of the lavender body wash that softened her skin? Could she be sharp and cool, satisfying and rich like the mint chocolate cake she made for Pepper? Steve was all too curious. She needed to answer him before he lost it and sated his curiosity.

Before he did something she might not like. Before something happened that he wouldn't be able to fix.

"I suppose I can go." Liberty found herself absently combing rows through the blonde hair by his ears.

"Great!" Steve smiled brightly, pinching her hands softly. He stood, babbling something about training and all but ran to get away from her. _Too excited! Emotional overload! Need regulation. _Steve told himself. Preventing her from seeing the stiffening erection brought on by her fingers running through his hair was also motivation for his leave. Liberty felt stupefied as the curious, hopeful, wanting heat within her began to fade.

_The man can coax a reply_, she admitted to herself. Bruce stumbled out of the Smash Room in his tattered ensemble. He seemed fairly pleased. He complimented her, patting her shoulder as he staggered to the lab. "We'll be doing yoga tomorrow morning." Bruce called over his shoulder.

Liberty didn't reply. Her mind went to showering. A shower was just what she needed at the moment. It would strip the sweat from her and hopefully dull the mounting thoughts concerning Steve Rogers.


	9. Confronting the Enemy

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to blown-transistor and ThoughtlessRage for reviewing. It really means a lot! To reach 40 reviews already is something I didn't expect. Especially when considering this thing has, like, no traffic rates and follows compared to _Doctor Patient Confidentiality _(which I didn't know had made four C2's! Wow! Not that I'm really comparing them, per se). Do people not like my Steve as much as my Bruce or something? Haha, I don't know.

When all is said and done, though, I'm super proud of this story. And even prouder and more grateful for the people reading this. Seeing reviews makes me smile. I have another Steve/Liberty story MAYBE in the works, but whether or not it gets made depends on the readers/receptivity to this story.

To ThoughtlessRage: I thought of Libby, actually. It's cute, isn't it? I just figured that – with Hulk being the coach and in "mission mode" – he wouldn't really care to take the time and think of a name. Glad you like the psychological element!

This chapter is extra long! I may be able to update again tomorrow, but that remains to be seen.

That aside, get ready to enjoy some slightly horny, snarky Steve!

* * *

Eight: Confronting the Enemy

Steve sprang alive at five thirty, as he always did, to assume cooking duties. He was hard-wired to greet the multi-colored morning sky with enthusiasm and determinism. Bright-eyed and clean, he padded to the kitchen. By six he deemed the amount of eggs, bacon, toast, grits, and sausage enough for the team. While washing the pots and pans he heard another set of feet, and turned to see who was up.

Sometimes it was Dr. Banner, up for an early cup of tea. Often times it was Bruce _and_ Tony, both trying to recover from late hours in the lab. Today it was Liberty. He was honestly surprised. His days as Captain taught him that she hated early mornings, and considered them demonic.

Why was she up at six in the morning? Liberty shuffled in, lids so heavy she only blinked halfway. Her thick, black lashes obscured her blue eyes. She stumbled like an uncoordinated sleepwalker. Less than halfway towards the table, she stopped.

About to ask why, wondering what she was doing, Steve opened his mouth but promptly shut it. The beginning of a yardstick hovered above her, originating from the kitchen entrance. A bagel followed, swinging along slowly and smoothly on a thin string. Steve grinned amusedly, watching her lean up to grab it. The bagel responded by rising, allowing her fingertips to touch before moving forward slightly.

Bruce Banner operated the yardstick, putting a finger to his lips before Steve could interrupt his delicate process. Once Dr. Banner had Liberty at the kitchen exit, and stood close enough to Steve, the bagel dropped into Liberty's hands. Steve laughed as Liberty broke the bagel and removed the string. She nibbled quietly, slowed with sleepiness. Liberty failed to register him, not fully awake.

She had sleep-tousled hair, a rumpled white shirt with purple bottoms, and an absentminded beauty about her.

"What were you doing, Dr. Banner?"

"Getting her up for yoga." Bruce grinned, proud of his ingenuity. He brought the yardstick to his face, searching for the severed string.

"Why didn't you just _ask _her to get up?"

"I did. Several times. She was in a different spot every time I went back there." mused Bruce. Her room looked slightly rearranged because of that fact. Like Coriander, Liberty was fond of her sleep. Instead of spouting curses like his wife, Liberty whined and hid. He found her under the bed the second time.

She was in the bottom of closet during his third visit. Liberty received a few more seconds of sleep for her cleverness when he came knocking the next time. Bruce, thinking she wouldn't hide in the closet again, moved various pieces of furniture and checked surrounding rooms before thinking of looking in the closet. Curled up atop a highly uncomfortable holding rack stationed above the hanging clothes, was Liberty. He gave her credit for persistence, but nonetheless pulled her from the closet.

Realizing he couldn't approach this gently, or empty-handed, Bruce let her sleep on the bed for a few minutes. He came back with a bagel tied to a yardstick, the longest thing available. Just because Liberty was quiet and passive in her protests didn't mean she wouldn't snap. The women inside Stark Tower were vicious when torn from sleep. Not one to take his chances, Bruce dangled the bagel before Liberty.

It tapped her in the nose a few times before she registered the scent. Then, like a zombie, she shuffled after it. Bruce managed to lead her out of the room and down the hallway before assuming a yardstick-leading position behind her. Steve chuckled. Finished with the bagel, Liberty turned to find her bedroom again.

"Oh no! No, no! You have yoga to do!" Bruce admonished, squatting slightly to throw his arms out and block her. If this worked on Emery, then it was good enough for Liberty. Swaying slightly, perplexed and slightly annoyed that she'd been stopped, Liberty dropped to the floor to crawl through Bruce's legs. Being the father of an energetic child, Bruce expected this.

He grabbed her by the ankles and stood up carefully, making sure not to smack her on the floor. "I don't _want _yoga! Yoga's stupid!" moaned Liberty, hanging there without a care. Her shirt flopped down, racing towards the floor. Bruce quickly righted her before Steve figured out what color bra she was wearing. Steve noticed she had an innie bellybutton, though.

"Well…you have to do it."

"But _why_?" sighed Liberty in mild aggravation as she rubbed at her eyes. Damn Bruce and his persistence! The task of chasing the bagel and arguing with him was starting to wake up her senses.

"Because I said so." Bruce grinned. It was a parental card if there ever was one, but useful. Liberty furrowed her red brows at the remark. There had to be a way out of this. Yoga at fuck o' clock in the morning wasn't useful for anything, and neither was she.

She preferred to wake up between eight and nine.

"This is a good way to wake up! You have to be ready for the parade at nine, anyways." reminded Bruce. Senator Sterns tried to organize it as best he could. Captain America returning wasn't reason enough for people to miss work. Thinking of that, he wanted to hold it early enough for reporters to tape and news stations to play by lunchtime. Liberty gave a low grumble, failing to entertain the idea of focused movement.

"Earlier, actually. Key figures have to be there by eight." Steve corrected him. Liberty needed to know that, too, because she was going with him.

"No," Bruce smiled gently, "she's going there at nine." Steve turned his back on the stove, hoping his face wasn't skeptical and furious. He and Dr. Banner hardly argued, but he knew he was right on this. She had to be there at eight! Liberty told him _herself _that she would go with him. Going with him meant arriving when he did.

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to say those things. Dr. Banner smiled oddly, almost like he knew what Steve meant but had additional information. Steve narrowed his eyes as if he could pull the missing knowledge from Dr. Banner's face. What did Bruce know that he didn't? Liberty was mostly awake now, and knew that she'd choose Bruce as the lesser of two evils.

His hour came later than Steve's. Though, honestly, she had no idea why they thought differently about the parade. The two different times were obviously for those attending and those participating in the parade, but how could people in Stark Tower get mixed up? They were the Avengers! Who was she supposed to listen to?

Her head hurt.

"Let's just go do yoga." sighed Liberty, rubbing the space above her eyebrows with two fingers. Bruce chuckled, leading her out of the room. Steve barely fought the urge to make a metal pretzel of the closest pan. Why were they going at different times? What did it matter?

More importantly, what was Bruce hiding? If this was trick of Tony's—! The billionaire liked to pick on him, but Steve wouldn't allow this to be ruined. Asking Liberty to attend to the parade, actually getting a positive response, had taken a lot for the shy super soldier. Liberty made him feel things only Peggy had, and he knew that meant attraction.

In his time, when a man liked a woman, he showed it. Steve wasn't as flamboyant as Tony, and could never hope to be, so he took the subtle route. Inviting her to a parade where she'd stand next to him as he politely spoke of his appreciation for her was his way of showing her. She may not understand, but he would. The speech was meant to honor her, and acted as a cover for Steve to blurt out some blossoming feelings he had for the cute little thing that saved his life.

If she listened hard enough, and thought like him, Liberty may catch the hints of a relationship invitation. Steve wouldn't give her much, not in a public setting. That would be embarrassing if she _did _catch on and ended up turning him down. No, it was just honest, clever word play that would help him feel a bit bolder despite his natural shyness with women. But how could he do any of that with Dr. Banner giving her the wrong time?

Steve wanted to punch something. It was six, though, and he had to be quiet. The children were still sleeping. He snatched up the pan, silently massaging the handle. Bruce and Liberty were long gone, which he was thankful for.

Tony shuffled in, searching for coffee. He looked like a tornado survivor but smiled like a victor. That usually meant he'd gotten a special morning wakeup present from Pepper. It was enough to infuriate Steve. Why were people's relationships and happiness suddenly so obvious and obnoxious now that he thought of pursuing someone?

Now that he was tired of being alone and trying to do something about it?

"I have large cabinets, Steve. You don't have to fold the pan." Tony teased in a gruff, sleepy voice, waiting as his coffee mug filled. Genuinely surprised that his thoughts had gotten the better of him, Steve looked down to his hands. The pan's handle was twisted up and folded over into the cooking area. He blushed, swiftly straightening it with his enhanced strength. "Something bothering you?" wondered Tony as he blew on the coffee and took a welcome sip.

"I…" Steve didn't know how to explain. He just knew he was angry. And right about the time. Rogers wasn't one to rant, though. "The parade idea is just getting a little hectic, I suppose." mumbled the super soldier as he stored the dry pans and made himself a plate of food.

Tony barely restrained his grin. Steve must've figured out about Liberty arriving later than him. He was happily playing god – cupid, _whatever_ – because Steve needed to see that it was alright for him to be happy. Stark felt like Steve was denying himself perfectly normal, sensible things because of the time gap issue. Worried about helping the people, staying fit, and maintaining his Captain America image left Steve no time for himself, Tony thought.

He was in dire need of a personal life. A personal life typically consisted of things outside of being a superhero. Simple things, like having someone to sleep in with. Someone to come home to at the end of the day; someone to love into a daze after returning from a perilous mission. In Steve's case, he needed someone to relax him.

Someone like Tony Stark was not blind where people and attraction were concerned. Steve had the hots for Liberty. Aside from JARVIS sharing his dirty deed in the bedroom, Tony could tell by the way he looked at her. The kid likely had no clue, given her less than stellar upbringing and how low to the ground she was – Tony grinned at his personal short joke – but Tony knew. He also knew Steve turned into a shy, stuttering idiot around women.

Seventy years in ice hadn't helped. He was a totally different person on the battlefield. On the battlefield Steve was collected, fearless, wicked sharp, alert, deadly, and willingly rushed headfirst into the fray. Those qualities didn't carry into the other facets of his life, but Tony planned to activate them. Tony doubted that any woman in Manhattan would startle Steve if he thought like Battle Steve. That idea would be tested today.

Being the guy he was, Tony knew Steve would look for Liberty the entire time. He'd arranged for Happy to stand beside her, and for the parade committee to leave a section of road open. She would be there and, if he was right, Steve would swoop her up just to feel content and adjusted. It was an "all things accounted for, all things well" type of deal. "Why don't you go throw a few at the punching bag?" offered Tony, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Bruce and Liberty were in there doing yoga. Steve couldn't possibly be anything other than stunned at the sight of a woman doing yoga. Especially when it was a woman he liked. "But Bruce and Liberty are—"

"We're guys, Steve. Sometimes we need to just let it out." Tony said after a swallow of coffee. Steve liked to cope with running, and Tony knew that idea was coming up next. "You can't get mobbed in the training room, Steve." that was a pretty good reason, Steve thought. He and Thor went on a casual walk one day, and ended up running back to the tower at light speed. Women of all ages came out of nowhere.

The incident left Steve with a flannel shirt missing several buttons. Thor had a chunk of his shirt missing entirely. "Alright, Stark, I'll bite." he knew when he was walking into a trap. Sometimes the traps couldn't be avoided. He really _did _need to level himself out before the parade.

Dr. Banner deemed him entirely flushed of the antigen; all that remained was _him_. Bruce warned him that he'd be slightly volatile as he adjusted to the idea of being alone and mentally sound again. Steve just didn't expect to feel so…territorial. And embarrassed. And lusty.

Such transitions were normal to people hesitating about relationships, he knew. Dr. Abbot's books prepared him for a lot. But, at the same time, they didn't help at all. It was one thing to read about the male mind, the effects of modern society on the amygdala, and a comparison between habits and milestones from then and now, but another to live the situation. The words made sense, and his inner planner absorbed them to keep it all on file, but surviving was another challenge entirely. Tony slurped the last of his coffee, masking his chuckle as Steve left.

* * *

Liberty was officially scared. Bruce was insanely good at yoga, bending ways men with penises should not be able to. She felt silly being unable to compete with him. He gently tried to encourage her, stating he'd been doing yoga for nearly twenty years, but that failed to help her feel good about her natural stiffness. Caroline's lessons on perfect posture had, unfortunately, led to stubborn muscles.

Bruce could tell she wasn't breathing right, and told her to fix that. Liberty let out a small hiss before doing so. They were currently in some forward bending pose. Her legs were spread, tight with tension that popping joints barely relieved. But, the position was useful. When the training room door opened she could drop her head and see who it was.

Was Steve's face red? Or was all the blood rushing to her head? Bruce sensed the interruption and gave a lazy roll to land on his back. He then sat up and swiveled to face his teammate. Less coordinated, happy for the pause, Liberty just dropped to her knees and turned onto her butt.

"I…" Steve could hardly speak. All the blood was in his face. His jaws couldn't meet after seeing Liberty with her buttocks in the air like that. Yoga had plenty of poses, but Steve wasn't expecting _that _one when he walked in. Her rump was especially round against the seam of her pajama bottoms.

The stitching attracted his eyes, and he'd followed the path in the few seconds he'd been in the room. Those purple stitches trailed down her buttocks and wrapped around the junction of her thighs on their journey back to the front of her. Steve could hardly stand it. He was a man out of time, but he was a man. Though Steve had never felt it for himself, he knew a sweet, warm haven lay at the meeting place of her lean thighs.

Bucky had – unfortunately – talked his ear off enough about that. The '40s weren't about open bragging, but a guy's best friend often found out. Steve never put much stock in the stories and alleged wonderment until he found someone to focus on. Someone seventy years in the future he desperately wanted to experience that with. "Sorry!" he turned on heel and exited the room.

He had to get rid of the little soldier lying in wait before slipping into his suit. His heart thundered. Steve wasn't _used _to doing things like this, but he found his back thrown against a closed door as he stripped himself. Fondling himself dry hurt, but there was little time to be comfortable about the event. Aside from time constraint, Steve simply didn't have time to wait.

His body ached for release. He needed it more than air, it seemed. Steve couldn't tackle anything else in his day until this was done. The broad hand pumping and squeezing an equally massive erection provided a sense of tightness, but not the slick, wet, warm haven Bucky so often described. It was hardly the sweetness Steve hoped to one day feel.

This was desperate and fast. Hard and necessary. Airy gasps left Steve's lips as his knees folded and he slid disjointedly to the floor. Sweat pricked on his forehead and hands as his body flushed with heat and electricity. Steve swallowed thickly, thankful for the slight lubrication as his swollen cock pounded.

He could feel it approaching, tight and tingling from his toes to his teeth. Everything in him tensed. Heat licked up his thighs, hotter than before, and Steve shuddered. Barely beginning to stroke the underside of his own tip did the trick. Ribbons of molten desire painted his floor. Spent, calmed, Steve collapsed against the door.

_Hopefully it won't cave_, Steve prayed. He took a few seconds to collect himself, and clean up before zipping his pants. It happened _again_! The super soldier was nearly mad enough to scream. Why him, a man from a very proper time? Why now, when it had never mattered before?

Dazed and filled with peace from his latest release, Steve stumbled to the uniform room. It was a bit beyond the training room and a few before the eveningwear room. The super soldier heard nothing from the training room. Were Liberty and Bruce done? Just passing by the room made him flush.

That relief would've probably come faster inside of Liberty. A woman was likely tighter and warmer than his hand would ever be. Steve played his fingers along the part in his hair, sighing as he removed his uniform from the mannequin. Waiting was killing him. There had to be a way to tell her; a medium between 40s propriety and modern possessiveness.

Love came before lust for Steve Rogers. Given the circumstances – his wacky bodily changes – lust popped up faster than expected. It was time to return to his old-fashioned roots and properly court Liberty Ramsey. Steve knew there was love in him for Liberty if he could lust after her. Liberty just had to know it, and once she did he would prove it.

This parade would only start the flame. Steve would keep it roaring and burning; a red bright enough to rival the crimson of his uniform. He clipped his helmet on. Flexing his fingers over the strap of his shield solidified Steve's nerves. After cleaning up, hiding sweat beneath water and a dab of Aqua Velva, time for preparation hardly existed.

Steve saluted those who passed, doing it more for the babies than the adults. He took his motorcycle to the event. Tony's limos were nice, but didn't really speak patriotism. The motorcycle was safest for a quick escape. A quick escape may be required if he embarrassed himself.

* * *

Liberty was happy to have Tony's driver beside her. He was big, but polite. His large shoulders and meaty arms were perfect for keeping excited onlookers from sending her over the edge of the sidewalk. Several cars and floats inched down the street. She was surprised to see any floats up at all, given the quick spread of Steve's "return", but it was New York and people loved their heroes.

The floats were fairly simple. An American flag, real soldiers in a group saluting Captain, and a giant, fake cake styled in red, white, and blue was topped with sparklers. It was all dazzling. Very _Steve_. Thinking of the soldier had Liberty a bit upset.

She agreed to come here with _him_. And yet, somehow, Bruce convinced her to come late. The idea of her own safety amidst public delight at her living state paled in comparison to the fact that she let Steve down. Part of her liked the idea. Caroline would see her an hour later, if at all. But, for the most part, she felt guilty.

"I'm sorry, Steve." whispered Liberty as a faded green car drove by with noteable military personnel inside. Following the car were marching, neat lines of policemen, firefighters, and available army soldiers. Ten rows of peppy women dressed in red, white, and blue flirted with the crowd. They blew kisses, waved, high-marched, and the last line kicked eye-high in studded heels.

"I'm not mad. I understand." she snapped her head up, tuning out the sound of Happy chuckling. How the _hell _could he hear her over the squealing fans? Well, he _was _a super soldier. Steve grinned brightly, fingers twitching in invitation.

"You want to carry me?" Liberty refrained from snorting incredulously. Steve was the last of the parade, the piece people were waiting for. He'd requested it to be that way so he had time to look for Liberty. If he were at the beginning stopping to find her would hold everything up. It was easier this way, and more personal.

"You're not going to get through the crowds any other way." laughed Steve. _He has a point_, Liberty licked her lips.

"Can I take your coat?" Happy queried. As an apology for holding her back an hour, Pepper purchased a red, white, and blue dress for the occasion. It was supposed to be a surprise for Steve. She wiggled out of the blue peacoat jacket and passed it off. Steve's blue eyes flicked hurriedly, amusedly, and interestedly over the white dress made of two different fabrics.

It fell just above Liberty's knees and was off-the-shoulder. Her petite figure was accented by the cerise ribbon holding the cloth to her body. Instead of tying in a bow at the back like other dresses, the excess ribbon was brought off to the right to hang by her hip. In place of a knot was a dark blue star. Steve spotted her by the wild red curls framing her face.

Liberty decided to leave her hair down since she kept it up around the tower. "Up we go, little lady!" chuckled Steve. People were waiting, and she'd already agreed to come with him. Coming with him could really happen now, as she was in his arms. She reflexively slapped a palm to the star on his chest, burying her fingernails into the suit as Steve resumed walking.

His heart skipped a beat against her ear. Liberty's heart cantered like a fleeing horse. Steve inhaled the peppermint scent of her hair as he effortlessly caught up with the kicking women. _Damn gloves_, he tried not to growl in her ear as he absently fixed his grip on the bend of her knees. His enhanced nose could pick up the scent of lotion.

Did she apply lotion for him? Because they'd be going to this together? Was that even a sexy thing nowadays? It still made her soft, Steve knew. He smiled at the crowd, but not for them.

He had an adorable girl in his arms. Resting in them. Trusting him to carry her towards the ribbon-decorated stage. Steve couldn't be happier. Seeing Liberty eaten up with a blush was also grin-worthy.

Her hand was soft and warm against his chest. All prior parade marchers split off into two long lines hemming the stage. Steve – as they discussed – was to jump onto the stage. Whooping echoed in his ears, cheers welling up all over again when he successfully landed beside the podium. He made sure to drop one arm – allowing Liberty's dress to fall back into place – to prepare her for a standing position.

He also wanted a reason to cup her hips in his hands. Steve felt his blood heat. _Glad my helmet covers my cheeks_, he thought. Her hips were firm and warm. Trading her hips for those dainty shoulders, rubbing his thumbs across them appreciatively, Steve let her stand.

Steve stroked a curl by her shoulder, pulling her hair back. "I need you to go sit by Tony, okay? I'll mention you in a few minutes. For the mean time I need you to smile. Think you can do that?" Steve grinned. Liberty's eyes were locked on the crowd and the people who preceded him, but she could tell. She could almost _feel _the grin around the shell of her ear.

"Y-yeah." Liberty looked at him after a tentative smile. She was pretty sure their lips just touched. It was hard to tell with screaming people and flashing cameras. His eyes were so beautiful. Especially in the mask.

Steve gave her a wink, gesturing to the left where her chair waited as he bowed like a gentleman. Blushing, blinking to reacquaint herself, Liberty curtseyed before settling between Tony and who she assumed to be the senator's assistant. Tony rubbed her hand, smile dying slightly so he could press his lips together thinly. To the crowd he looked pleasant, but to Liberty he seemed apologetic. He flicked brown eyes over to the right side, answering her unasked question.

Liberty couldn't see the right side. There was no way _to _see between Steve's tall profile and the stocky podium. 'You'll see' mouthed Tony. Feeling a bit nervous, Liberty chose to recline in her seat and occupy herself with maintaining perfect posture. Steve held up a hand, silencing the crowd almost instantly.

"Thank you for this…um, colorful welcome." he laughed. Steve wasn't quite sure what to call it. There was enough red, white, and blue for it to be Fourth of July! "I'm happy to be back. It feels good to reassume my duties as an Avenger." cheers exploded. The crowd ate him up.

Time briefly stopped and rewound. It was like World War II all over again. Steve was used for propaganda before he was ever used for battle. Instead of children hanging on his every word there were people of all ages before him. "Some of you are curious as to what happened, and I'd like to end that curiosity." Fury coached him on what to say.

It floated carefully and cleanly through his head. Steve knew the lie so well it was like he'd written it across his own mind. If the cops made the connection, they would know what truly happened (but were allowed to say nothing regardless). Tony and the others did, but they knew better than to speak the truth. SHIELD's investigation would be compromised if the real reason for his disappearance came to light.

A panic over the mysterious dog allergen would occur, and pandemonium would ensue. Steve worried about the holes in the story, realizing there were things the SHIELD agents couldn't gloss over so easily. Some things couldn't be translated into something believable. He had a hard time believing he'd been turned into a dog, and had found a wonderful person that way. And he was the one it happened to!

Fury assured him people wouldn't really care about the story; the story was just to keep reporters from sniffing around. The modern world was more about results than details. He was back, Fury pointed out, and that's all they cared about. "A little while ago there was an incident on the corner of Ann and Bayard. I was deployed to assist in said incident, and ended up in a demanding battle.

"After handling several dognappers, I moved multiple dogs. Those of you who've ever tried to give Rover a bath know that isn't easy." he paused a moment to let the crowd laugh. That would give him time to remember the rest of his story. Carrying Liberty had really distracted him. Wetting his lips to speak caused him to catch a brief taste of her. They really _had_ kissed.

The spot on his lips tingled warmly and tasted of cherries. It was enough to excite Steve. Enraptured fans and the almost suffocating amount of red, white, and blue kept his blood cool, though. This was too much of a "family friendly" event to let them see the little soldier, which they would in his aggravatingly tight suit. "Once I arranged them in a way that would help police clear the building, an unseen member of the abducting force ambushed me." the crowd booed, much like they had when he fought fake Hitler years ago.

"I was shot with a highly disorienting liquid, and thought nothing of it until the last perpetrator was down. By the time I finished, the disorientation was near paralyzing. Before it could saturate my skin and ruin the uniform, I abandoned it at the scene. My prime directive, then, was to get myself to a place of safety while I recovered. I can't recall how far away I moved, or where I ended up, but I do know this wonderful little lady here helped me out." grinning, Steve turned to motion for Liberty.

"Without her, I wouldn't be here. She was with me throughout the recovery, and I'm grateful for that. Hopefully she'll stay around. Everyone knows a man needs a woman." Steve added as the women of the crowd agreed heartily.

Tony nudged her slightly. This is where Steve's part ended. It was her turn to take the reins and ad lib. She panicked. Liberty knew what really happened, and that wasn't it at all! What was she supposed to say?

Steve being a dog was likely highly confidential information. She had _no idea _what to say. Looking at Steve's honest smile and twinkling eyes made her feel like it would all be okay, though. The podium stopped just under her breasts, but the microphone evaded her. Liberty clutched the fine wood in a vice grip as Steve lifted her up in his right arm.

People chuckled.

"I'm only little because you're a giant." Liberty looked up to Steve, grinning as her muscles relaxed at the laughter beyond the stage. Everything was easier with laughter. And food. She wished these people could be fed. People were much easier to talk to when they had food in their mouths.

_Incorporate the dog! Incorporate the dog! _her mind screamed desperately. The other tenants had to have seen her with it, right? It only seemed fair, as that's what Captain had been when they met. She couldn't begin to tell a lie without it seeming a little bit familiar. Liberty couldn't tell a lie, period.

But, she had to. "My dog's leash snapped, leaving me to search frantically for him. In the process of doing so, I found Mr. Rogers." said Liberty after clearing her throat. She was piecing together words at light speed, but once the chronology was set she could speak with more fluidity. "The dog and I were on our way home from All about the Dough when I found Mr. Rogers. He was largely dazed and incoherent, but capable of standing.

"Because he was in no shape to deal with the general public, and my apartment was not far from the eatery, we stuck to the shortcuts and alleyways. And let me tell you, ladies, it is _very _hard to assist a naked man when he's trying to walk and cover his…flagpole." women in the crowd gave a very suggestive _woo_! as Tony outright snickered. The laugh was so sudden that Stark snorted while trying to hold it back. Steve was beyond mortified, but glad to have a humorous element distracting people from asking real questions. He didn't know how to feel about his flesh being compared to a flagpole.

Flagpoles were something he respected, as they supported the flag he fought for. They weren't meant to be used as a synonym for his…well…they weren't meant to be used like _that_! _A little swat on the rear would cure that, you know. Set her straight. You know you want to. _whispered a dark little voice in his head, full of lust and temptation and velvety darkness. It was the intimately starved part of him, the one Dr. Abbot thought he repressed in his quest to be mature before his time.

The part that nearly withered because it was neglected by the women of his time. Made purely of curiosity, passion, possessiveness, and untapped energy, it was stronger than ever in his new form. Before, in 1940, it had been an ember. Once or twice it smoldered, fueled by Steve's realization that people liked his super soldier body, but it dwindled because he had no time for love. His modern day idol status had it burning intensely; he was insatiable in his unconscious search for a woman.

The roaring fire was ready to be tamed by a woman's touch. Channeled and snuffed in feminine softness. Steve gripped her left hip a little tighter, telling himself it was to keep her suspended. His fingers were large, and easily wrapped around her hip. Curling his arm tighter around her waist gave his palm and fingers the ability to clutch the left globe of her bottom entirely.

It was a sweet feeling. The dark little voice was pleased. _Steve_ was pleased, indulging in the way her bottom shook and tightened in his grasp. Her voice wavered slightly as she rambled on about how she tried to help him regain his memory mere days before the destruction of her apartment. Something about that breathy squeak and the struggle to level herself had him aroused.

_He_ did that. His fingers did that to her. His touch. It was delicious. Pretending like he was trying to find his grip in the gloves, Steve flexed his fingers over her backside.

Liberty was pressed to his thighs and chest, hiding his hand from sight. He continued to knead her flesh, satisfying a perverse desire to feel her. Her quaking was succulent; Steve felt drunk on personal delight and the fact that no one would know what was happening to her behind the podium. No one would know but him and Liberty; it was their dirty little secret. The story of how Steve gradually regained his memory from the television and how he tried to confirm it by visiting the local Avengers was the perfect way to include herself walking the dog, should anyone want to point that out.

Liberty's heart fluttered, hoping she could stumble through the last few sentences. It was within reach now, the end of her tale. The dog led her to Stark Tower, saving her from the explosion that occurred moments later. Thinking it was the easy part. Saying it was the hardest.

Her general fear of talking to strangers was gone. Liberty was now afraid of making a keening noise into the microphone. Something was happening to her body…something that had never happened before. Consumed with heat and waves of bittersweet prickles, deafened by the sound of her heart hammering against her breast, Liberty couldn't speak. All of her focus was on the rapid throbbing between the hollow of her thighs.

The throbbing was distracting and intense. Another wave of heat clawed through her at each pulse. It was enough to make her feel dizzy until the wetness in her panties took the edge off. Her thighs continued to tremble afterwards. She wished she could borrow some of Steve's power; his body was perfectly sculpted and rigid behind her.

His hand grabbed her again. Was she taking too long? Surely his arm had to be getting tired, right? Was it his proximity or the grabbing that had her feeling this way? Did Steve even _mean _to hold her like that?

Steve hiked his leg up, burrowing gently between her legs. If anyone asked, his arm was getting tired. In truth, he wanted to see if his rubbing had excited her. His smile was proper for the event, but widened because of the moistness that saturated his kneecap. _Good enough for now_, breathed the little voice, and Steve agreed.

The end of her tale left her lips despite the presence of Steve's knee in her aching, tender mound. How, she didn't know. She just remembered something about "explosion" and "panic" and unknowingly inhaling escaped gas that caused a temporary amnesia of sorts. Steve set her down, patting her lower back supportively – and thankfully, as it was attached to the lovely rise of her bottom, but she didn't have to know that – as Dr. Banner readily approached to explain the science behind her temporary amnesia. Feeling a strange combination of languidness and stiffness, Liberty walked back to her seat.

Dr. Banner barely finished his speech before a woman on the right stood up. Liberty froze, unable to bend her knees and sit. Tony had to make her sit before she fell. Caroline Ramsey was on the right side with her cousin Katie, Aunt Polly, Senator Sterns, and Bruce's empty chair. Fear, rage, and smugness fought to control Liberty.

Her plan was to ignore what Caroline had done, to lock the memories away and be the best damn person she could – cook or otherwise – just to rub it in her face. That idea was fading fast; slipping through her fingers. Caroline's arms were outstretched, reaching for her as the distance between them closed. All Liberty could think was: _shit she's coming! Her hands are up and she's going to HIT ME! _and the girl tightened up like she did in her childhood. Caroline raising her hands was never good.

_Yeah, get close to me you BITCH and see what happens! _was an afterthought. It was stuffed to the back of her mind by fear and shock. If Steve had let her see Caroline before, if she'd just _paid attention _instead of being stupefied by him, the angry thoughts may have survived. She may have been a little bolder like she wanted to be. Liberty felt close to hyperventilating, mouth opened in the smallest of slits that inhaled dry air nowhere near good enough to keep her functional.

She felt drenched in cold sweat and close to a blackout. Was she having an anxiety attack? _Don't do this. Don't give her the power to scare you! You've been apart for THREE YEARS. That time of your life is OVER. Show her the real you, the you she can't suppress anymore!_

Liberty wanted more than anything to harness her mother. Caroline often told her – even in times of innocent inquiry and childish objection – that she was like her mother. Her father – the good one, the _Ramsey _– would never speak with such a loose, inconsiderate tongue. "That's the lower class in you." Caroline would always say. Most of her beatings would come from defending her late mother.

Something in her steeled. Remembering her mother gave Liberty the courage to stand. Caroline was shuffling straight for her in her slow, elderly way. Liberty felt her jaw clench, and she barely denied the desire to ball her fists. _You have to represent your mother_, a little voice in Liberty reminded, _that woman had no right to speak of her that way. She had no right to treat you as she did, either. Let her know that it won't be done anymore. STAND UP TO HER!_ and Liberty would.

She would hold her head high and grin sharply enough to cut the woman. Caroline wasn't the only one who could play for the cameras. Liberty was supposed to have been in a musical, after all. She knew how to act. The narrowing of her eyes was uncontrollable, though, and she couldn't help it.

"That's it," Caroline cooed sweetly. "Remember. Remember me, Liberty. Come back." Steve quickly inserted himself between the two women. Caroline's hands bounced off his chest. She looked up, startled that he blocked her. Steve was not fooled; he could see a hint of malice gleaming in the depths of her brown eyes.

The hatred warming the lighter tones of her eyes was burning at a low level, but Steve noticed it. She hated him just like she hated Liberty. Steve didn't care. Senator Sterns swooped in to save the parade. Caroline's move to her granddaughter was unexpected. And wouldn't happen, not if Steve had anything to do about it.

"Before we end the parade, why not thank the grandmother of such a helpful young woman, hm?" Senator Sterns asked the crowd. They cheered. Steve was more than happy to throw Caroline into the spotlight, leading her to the microphone with a firm grip. Liberty was safe with Tony, sitting down in her seat once again. Caroline accepted the cheers, waved like a pageant queen, and gave an impromptu speech that wasn't really necessary.

Steve knew her "happiness" was bullshit. Tony thought the only reason Caroline was happy was because her cash cow was alive. She now knew that a body would be available to claim the money. Caroline didn't dare approach Liberty with Tony Stark around. Instead, acting as an overjoyed grandmother, she took Captain America's invitation for a private chat. People disbanded as Senator Sterns deemed the event officially finished.

Sterns led the stage members down to mingle among the attendees, liking the attention and wanting something good for the press. That left Steve and Caroline totally alone. He wanted it that way. What he _wanted _to say could now be done without personal microphones or other people sending it airborne. "I know who you are and what you've done. You _will not _get the chance to hurt your granddaughter again. Do you understand? This is your only warning." Steve's whisper came out in a cool hiss as he cut through Caroline's yammering praise like a knife through butter.

Her façade cracked as he broke their handshake and removed his helmet. She was going to see his face, the hatred on it. _He knows! _her face screamed. _I won't be intimidated! _Caroline quickly hardened her face. "I'm sorry, my ears are a bit old." Caroline laughed as if he'd told her a joke. "Were you _threatening _me?"

"It's not a threat, Caroline. It's a promise." Steve grinned. "You _will not _get the chance to hurt her again. Hell, if I feel like it, you won't get the chance to _see _her!" he laughed. Wouldn't that be sweet? Gently locking Liberty away in a pleasant environment – just the two of them – much to the ire of her grandmother?

"You can't withhold my granddaughter from me!" Caroline spat, careful not to let her disdain show for the cameras. Steve smiled widely.

"Oh, but I can." Steve told her quietly. His tone was dark; Caroline's body erupted into shivers. She'd never seen the golden boy so serious. "I was a soldier for a long time, _ma'am_." he spat out the nicety. "I know plenty of tactics."

"But you're out of time! What good would that knowledge be in the modern age?" she nearly crowed with delight. At last, Caroline felt like she had the upper hand against him. Steve maintained his smile, clearly unfazed.

"I'm the Man with a Plan, remember?" Steve slipped his big hand over hers, grabbing it as if to shake it again. He squeezed until he heard bones crack. Caroline winced, but refused to show pain. She smiled, and Steve tried not to narrow his eyes. There was something dark and disgusting about that smile. It was akin to Loki's before Hulk threw him like a ragdoll.

"You're the Man with a Plan," agreed Caroline, wincing as she flexed her hand and undoubtedly broken bones. "But you're seventy years behind. Any plan you make will be half-assed. You won't see it coming, anyways."

"See _what _coming, Mrs. Ramsey?"

"You'll see, Mr. Rogers." chuckled Caroline.

"We'll stop you." promised Steve. "_I'll _stop you. Soldier's honor."


	10. Movie Time

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Midnight Chamber, an unidentified guest, PirateShipForever69, blown-transistor, ThoughtlessRage, La Bella Figura, pizzagirl, and Drachegirl14 for reviewing. My last AN wasn't meant to complain or require an increase in reviews, it was just a statement. Or realization, rather. If any of you felt compelled to review, that was not the intention. But, still, it was nice to see all those reviews :D.

The movie _Burlesque _is referenced in this chapter (so is _Captain America: The First Avenger_), as are a few songs. I own none of that, just as I do not own the _Avengers_. This chapter may seem like a filler (and short), but it has an important message/meaning for Liberty. Didn't have time to proof read! Computer dying!

To PirateShipForever69: Your review was very nice! But I'm a bit confused. _Doctor Patient Confidentiality _IS complete, but I understand how you feel about "works in progress" not being complete after some time. I'm guilty of one or two of those in my _TMNT_ or _X-Men: First Class_ fandom, just because I've been so swept up in _this_ fandom.

To ThoughtlessRage: Good. She's meant to scare you, haha! That made you laugh, really? Wow. I guess it is kind of funny xD. I think he would, to a point. I mean…spending seventy years and ice has to do something for the libido, right?

To La Bella Figura: Not a problem! At least you've been reading! Hope you feel better! Glad to know you like my spin on Steve :D.

To pizzagirl: Yes, they will be touching the topic. And yes, Steve flustering Caroline was hot xD.

To Drachegirl14: Oh, haha! Poor thing, hopefully that doesn't make reading awkward for you! We shall see about the little voice and Liberty soon enough, though the seduction may not be _on purpose_, per se. There are still other chapters, after all.

* * *

Nine: Movie Time

"We're ready now." Coriander quit knocking on Steve's door five minutes ago. He'd been wrapped up in his thoughts since the parade. Steve relaxed, softening the sapphire daggers with a simple exhale. Everyone knew something happened. By the time the taping ran at noon, Caroline Ramsey made the news again.

She claimed Steve purposefully broke her hand, and had medical records to prove fractures and clean breaks occurred. This, alone, had the Avengers worried. They were already concerned before; Steve wasn't usually mute. He didn't typically pace when they weren't on a mission. No, something was wrong.

Deeply, darkly, horribly wrong.

The silver lining to the situation was Steve's numerous fans. Caroline's cohorts and the societal youth objected angrily against such accusations, screaming defiantly like a deranged howling wind. Their conversation remained a mystery without any audio to recover. No lip readers were _that_ good (and the ones who _were_ worked for SHIELD. Selling out Captain would betray Coulson's memory, which they wouldn't do). Steve had been taught to speak volumes with a mere twitch of his lips; such a talent was necessary for long-range communication in World War II.

In one hour the inflammatory allegation lived and died. Her charge was regarded as nothing more than foolishness. Broken bones were a highly believable, accidental consequence of shaking a _super soldier_'s hand. It was hard for anyone – media included – to believe that _Steve Rogers _would knowingly harm an old lady. How could the physical embodiment of apple pie, patriotism, dedication, and gentlemanliness _do _such a thing?

He couldn't, was the final verdict.

Steve didn't care about the press. Rogers didn't _care_ that Caroline was in her posh home complaining about a few broken bones and fractures. He'd suffered _far worse _in his quest to become a super soldier. The emotional scars in the aftermath of his transformation made her wounds seem like scrapes and bruises. Hell, her _granddaughter _had a better reason to whine!

_And yet, she's hardly made a sound because of it all, _mused Steve sadly. Liberty was a soldier if he ever saw one, and he knew soldiers. He pressed a tightly curled fist to his head. The light _thump! _of his hand against his forehead was desperately needed to break up pesky, raging thoughts. His head was bloated with loaded thoughts of rage, curiosity, uneasiness, determinism, horror, and protectiveness; so much so that Steve was beginning to get a headache.

It didn't help that they were all intertwined and compacted by a tight, impenetrable wrap of worry. His body felt like the snugly coiled spring of a trap. Steve was just waiting for something – or someone – to step on the trigger and send shit flying. That person would be Caroline, his gut told him. His gut couldn't tell him what she would do, or decode the hidden insinuation in her comments.

That aggravated him most of all.

Always one to express anger alone, Steve locked himself in his room after thirty punching bags suffered his wrath. He'd gone through them too quickly. Tony needed to order more, and that drove him to his room. Steve finally stopped pacing, surprised to feel Stark's fine rug beneath his feet. It was a surprise to feel it there at all; he was sure a trail was burnt in it, or that his feet had stripped it.

He had few ways to calm down. TV seemed to help everyone else in the tower, so he'd try it. Steve thought it would be wise to broaden his horizons and learn more about modern movies. He and Thor were vaguely schooled on how movies went from a projector and color animation to digital and whatever else kids had these days. It was hard to keep track of all the technical terms and slang.

"I'm coming." Steve assured, mustering an award-winning smile for Coriander. It was a tired one, though. Steve wasn't even trying. Coriander was clearly skeptical; he could see it in her frown and green eyes. He watched her leave, begrudgingly following.

Steve wasn't told _as much _about Dr. Abbot's approach because he was also her patient, but he knew their main objective was to restore her confidence. To create an environment that allowed her to open up. With positive reinforcement, Fury thought her past would come flowing back. Therein laid the long-hidden clue concerning Hammer, the Ramsey's, and maybe the attacker's connection (or so they hoped). Pepper lobbed another piece of popcorn into her mouth, snuggling with a wrap in the armchair.

"You'll love this!" Cori promised, grinning brightly. She bounced on her toes with excitement. "It has dancing, singing, and the story itself is just _amazing_!" Mrs. Banner gushed. "Very inspirational. Ali claws her way to the top without being overly vicious. She has kind of, like, a quiet determinism."

"But why are we watching this again?"

"We know you like musicals." smiled Pepper. "I thought it'd be nice for you to relax a bit after the whole apartment situation. You'll be able to relate to Tess and Ali, I think."

"How did you know I like musicals? I never told you!" Liberty liked the thought of a musical. It wasn't one she was comfortable with like _For Me and My Gal _or _My Fair Lady_, but it was a musical.

"JARVIS was able to review your debit card history and deduced that you liked musicals." Pepper informed. Liberty was a bit unnerved by that, but thought the gesture was sweet. She made a mental note to start using cash more often. Having an AI track her – much less hack into her bank account to see such important documents – was troubling. Pepper shuffled to sit between Cori and Liberty, forcing Steve to the end of the large couch.

He wasn't in the mood to eat popcorn, anyways. "And you'll like this one." Cori swore. "Especially the cookie box scene."

"The cookie box scene?" Liberty had no idea what the hell that meant.

"Oh yeah! The cookie box scene is yummy." Pepper grinned into the popcorn piece, swallowing it. Steve recognized the creeping feeling of dread brewing in him. This seemed to be a movie males wouldn't want to watch. They spoke dreamily of this 'cookie box' scene. And yet, with the children all down for the night, Bruce and Tony in the lab, Thor in the training room, and Clint and Natasha undoubtedly tangled up in one another, the living room offered serenity.

He'd tough it out, Steve decided. There were worse things to sit through. Coriander started up the DVD. Liberty's heartstrings were tugged almost instantly. Ali was overworked and underpaid in the beginning, risking poverty and joblessness as she abandoned her old job to find fame and fortune elsewhere.

She could understand the want to escape. Could understanding hoping for something better. Clinging firmly to the idea that something better was out there, waiting to be chased. Ali reminded her of her own mother, in a way. Despite coming from poor conditions – one of seven children – she didn't let the inability to go to college stop her. Because of that tenacity she'd cooked her way into the hearts of many.

And succeeded, much like Ali seemed to despite the hatred of others. Steve tried to invest himself in the movie, honestly tried, but couldn't. His rigid 1940s ideals of the appropriateness of women's attire were at odds with this movie. He admired their tone bodies, but frowned upon the scanty costumes. Women shouldn't _want _to dress like that and show off their bodies, but it was a movie.

And he had to accept it, unfortunately. Like it or not, people existed in the modern day who did things like this. "You go, Ali!" cheered Liberty. She'd gone from bussing tables to dancing on stage. "That's good old-fashioned persistence for you!" Liberty barely touched the popcorn, absorbed in the movie.

Steve could agree with that theme, at least. The numbers grew increasingly seductive, Steve thought. Ali went from wearing a leather police uniform to…to _pearls _and necklaces and nothing else! He blushed reflexively at the sight of her dancing with strategically placed feathers. If women danced like _that _in his time, well…no one would've gone to war!

All the men would be pining for the women! He depended on the issue of Tess almost losing her lounge to keep him afloat. Otherwise, he could easily be sleeping. The music was too different and showy for his tastes (but the small band element was a pleasant surprise). Ali had a good voice, but seemed to yell at some points.

Her raspy, growling quality was interesting. Singers didn't really have that in his day. It gave her a certain allure, and totally opposed her speaking voice. "Don't go out with the business man!" Liberty lectured to the TV, oblivious to the fact that she would go unheard, "Jack loves you!"

Jack, the bartender and friend to Ali, was gradually falling for the new addition. He opened his home up to her when she had nowhere else to go. They teetered somewhere between friends and more, though no one was making a move either way. It was an amiable suffering if there ever was one. The scene where Jack stares dreamily from the bar with his chin on his hands really spoke to Steve.

He knew what it was like to want someone. To think of them so affectionately and realize the repercussions of rejection. Of trying. The entrance of the businessman only muddled things. Jack – to Steve – turned slightly bitter and unimpressed when Ali would stay out late or come home with expensive gifts, but whatever he was, he was always worried.

Jack was in never-ending pain because of his own idiocy. Ali moved onto the businessman because Jack made no move. Not one strong enough to catch her attention, at least. Things looked dismal for the love-struck bartender. Softening the grief and tension between the two was Tess, bemoaning through song the possible loss of her lounge as it struggled to recover.

"You Haven't Seen the Last of Me" was deep and emotional. Liberty's arms exploded into goose bumps. Tess seemed to be singing from the soul, and captured the struggle perfectly.

_"Feeling broken, barely holding on…but there's just something so strong somewhere inside me. And I am down, but I'll get up again. Don't count me out just yet! I've been brought down to my knees, and I've been pushed way past the point of breaking, but I can take it. I'll be back, back on my feet. _

_"This is far from over! You haven't seen the last of me!"_

The lyrics made Liberty shiver, resonating coolly in her chest like a wintry inhale trapped within her. She _understood_. A sense of realization swept over her, blinding and awing like being thrust into a bright room after stumbling in the dark. Cher's character _understood_. There was such strength and determination in her that Liberty wanted to cry.

She thought she was. Tears dripped down her face, unfelt because of the song's spell. Tess forced herself through the pain, but let it show in the song. She was nothing but a fighter finally having a weak moment. It was like the bedroom with Steve and Pepper all over again and _fuck _it hurt.

But, it was a welcome pain. A bittersweet, beautiful pain. Someone _understood _in a way Liberty thought no one ever would. Tess was the perfect blend of an emotional woman and a hunting warrior seeking to defend their livelihood. The movie had nothing to do with abuse, but seeing Tess sing through her pain made Liberty feel like her own pain was being shared.

And she didn't have to say a word. The relief she felt was on a spiritual level. Liberty could _feel _the shackles and pain of her past evaporate. Her body was light and relaxed, like she'd taken that life-saving breath after a deep and treacherous dive. If Tess could turn the Burlesque Lounge around (which she was), and stuck to her guns despite the offers and intrusive businessman, well…Liberty could do it, too!

Their situations were different, but weren't. Tess was fighting for her lounge. Liberty was fighting for her sense of self. Both had hardships, and both refused to quit. The movie was, in short, inspiring.

"Liberty, honey, are you okay?" Pepper inquired tentatively as Coriander paused the movie.

"I…the emotions…beautiful!" whispered Liberty. The revelation of shared pain left her stunned. Nearly muted her. It made sense, but was hard to vocalize. Coriander grinned.

"Yeah, this movie is _full _of feels." laughed Coriander.

"It gets better." Pepper swore. "Marcus has it coming."

"And there's the cookie scene!" reminded Coriander.

"And the cookie scene." nodded Pepper.

"Play it! I want to see!" Liberty bounced excitedly on the couch, doing nothing to move Steve. Marcus was like a male Caroline to her, and Liberty wanted to see him get his comeuppance. Something fiery and strong burned through her – confidence? The desire to see Marcus fail? Determinism? – and caught her in a vice grip. This, unlike her sobbing episodes and brief nosedives into depression at being exposed, lingered. It would stay with her, Liberty knew.

She felt like there was an army at her back, ready to support her. One that was willing to stay through whatever future Caroline or Ramsey encounters she faced. It was a relaxing, wonderful feeling. Liberty felt like she could take on the world because of that invisible army. "Oh, here it comes!" Coriander clapped.

Steve had a feeling this would be the 'cookie scene'. Jack was losing another clothing item each time he returned to see Ali. Eventually he came out in nothing, holding a Famous Amos cookie box over his shame. Liberty went blood red, hugged a pillow, and squealed.

"How could he do that?!" Liberty gawked. Was it sad or amusing that he could perfectly hide everything behind a box of cookies? "That…that's wrong! He needs to put the cookie dough back in the wrapper!" _oh, you're an idiot. So it's cookie dough now? Not a flagpole?_

"_What_?" Pepper laughed so hard she snorted. She and Coriander were pink in the face. The movie played on as they rolled with painful delight at her comment. Liberty meant to think that, but blurted it out. And yes, she likened the male anatomy to cookies because he was holding a cookie box. And it was white. Probably long, like cookie dough in its frozen, packaged form.

Steve had to laugh, too. Because Liberty called it cookie dough. And because she was so blushingly shocked at the movie. It made her comment more adorable and laughable than it already was. "_Steve_!" Liberty gasped, red cheeks darkening a shade as she pouted at his obvious laughter, "_you're_ laughing, too? _You_?"

He couldn't reply. Steve was too busy trying to reign in his laughter. The control dissolved all over again when all he managed was a delayed snort. "You guys _suck_!" pouted Liberty, cuddling her pillow. It was funny to her, too, but she was thoroughly embarrassed.

She moved to get up, but Steve roped an arm around her. He endured some teasing in his day, but knew this was harmless. Pepper and Coriander had good intentions, as did he. "Y-you have to see - hehehe - how the movie e-ends." Pepper said as she finally calmed down.

"You said Marcus has something coming to him. I have an idea." Liberty mumbled. She wasn't mad, nor did she want to storm off in some ferocious mood, but a break from the giggling would be nice. Her cheeks hurt.

"Just watch. It'll be good. There's more music to hear." Coriander coughed out the last escaping chuckle. Not totally swayed, Liberty eyed them suspiciously. Steve rubbed her shoulder, trying to comfort her in his iron hold. Coriander thought this movie would help her – somehow – and it was his job to make sure she stayed.

"Alright…" yielded Liberty shortly after. "But _you_ will regret it if you laugh." she warned, pointing up at Steve. She had little objections to lying on his chest and listening to his heart. If Steve were a modern man, and stranger, Liberty wouldn't feel so comfortable laying on him. But he wasn't, and she'd known him to be nothing but loyal and attentive as her dog.

"Oh? What will you do?" Steve wondered, giving a tiny chuckle of curiosity.

"You don't want to know." grinned Liberty. "I fight dirty."

It was fine until the last ten minutes. Jack wrote Ali a song to perform. Steve assumed it represented their success at staving off Marcus' attempt to buy Tess' building. "Cookie dough wrote her a song." chortled Pepper. Like ducks in a row, Coriander giggled, then he did.

Steve growled, jumping slightly when Liberty pinched his nipple. She cackled. Surprise and lust bolted through him. That was rather playful of her! Kind of sexy, too.

_Make it even_! persuaded the dark voice. But Steve couldn't. That overstepped his personal boundaries, even if it was tempting. Such a thing may be acceptable in the modern time, but it wasn't to him. He had to earn that.

"Freedom!" Liberty shot up, ducking under his arm to run away. Steve was left feeling flustered and slightly wanting as the credits rolled. Tess' song really changed her mood, like someone flipping a switch. Was this the person she would've been without the abuse? A mix of quiet and devilish?

He liked that mix. Steve liked her, regardless. The hard part was telling her. Thoughts of his unexpressed affection, how it'd been temporarily abandoned for his furiousness concerning Caroline, weighed heavily on his mind. One thought was enough to send him into an absentminded state.

"Got a lot on your mind, Steve?"

He gave an indecisive grunt.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." he mumbled. Lying down was synonymous with thinking for him. Steve needed to think at a time like this. How to approach this matter in the most successful way? If this were a question of battle, he'd have that answer.

Thinking of love like war wasn't always possible, though. People may say it was, but it wasn't for Steve. War tactics came easily to him. Matters of love did not. Pepper gave him a warm smile, eyes twinkling as if to say she _knew _why he was going to bed.

"Take it easy, Steve." she nodded her head. His lips twitched in a half-grin of thanks. Coriander waved idly, busying herself with putting the DVD up and turning off the TV. Steve softly shut his door, wondering if it would've been smarter to linger and talk with Pepper. He was a soldier out of time; there was no better guide on charming a modern woman than a modern woman.

Pepper was a special case, though. She had put up with and _married_ one of the single most annoying people on the planet. Tony had his charm, but Steve was sure it took an interesting woman to handle Tony Stark. One that may not be suited for helping him court a shy little lady like Liberty. He sat on his fortified bed, slightly comforted that it didn't break.

At least something was working out for him.

Natasha may not be a very helpful source, either. Steve's mind drifted thoughtfully from one woman inside Stark Tower to the next. Thinking of each woman as a candidate, a choice, helped Steve's orderly and strategic mind untangle his inner confusion. Black Widow – though efficient and lethal – was not a proper guide to women. She only wore feminine clothes when necessary, and it was usually to coax men out of information.

There was nothing soft about her as far as Steve knew. Clint might know, but Natasha would own up to none of it if confronted. That left Coriander. She was young and most knowledgeable of the modern life, but her personality had Steve cautious. Coriander was respectful and compassionate, but stubborn, impish, blunt, and sarcastic.

Possessing an iota of abrasiveness may hurt his mission. Liberty was exceptionally delicate when he considered her upbringing. Even more so when Bruce revealed that Dr. Abbot suspected her to have Princess Syndrome. No, this had to be done in a gentle and relaxing way. But what was he supposed to _do_?

The answer eluded him, and Steve was aggravated and disappointed. He paced absently about his room, hoping something pinned along the walls might hold the answer. Black and white pictures of Bucky and his army mates were comforting, at least. All the faces were silent, though, and had no answers to give. Steve heaved a frustrated sigh, not wanting to accept that this could be solved simply.

Everything else in the modern world was complicated. Why shouldn't this be, too? And yet, it wasn't. The only thing in his way was him. And words. Neither of those required super intelligence or the ability to navigate a holographic computer.

He stood before the mounted mirror Tony bought to make his room feel cozy. Practice made perfect, after all. Training was vital, and by looking in the mirror he could watch himself talk to her. Even if it was just pretend.

"What am I supposed to tell her? 'I used to be your dog, but I know I like you as a human?'" Steve scratched at the back of his nicely combed hair in confusion. Talking to himself in the mirror wasn't helping. He didn't have the answers. On his wall sat a poster Tony gifted him. 'Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness' it read. It became clear then. _Pursue her_, his mind said.

A gentle knock echoed. Steve closed the distance in seconds. Pepper was on the other side, biting her lower lip nervously. Her face was slightly creased in guilt. Rogers pursed his lips, not wanting to ask if she'd overheard when it was obvious that she had.

"Yes, Pepper?"

"I didn't mean to overhear, but I did. You may not know how to tell her yet, but you'll have a chance to be up close. That might help."

"What are you talking about?" what could require him _and _Liberty? Dr. Abbot wouldn't dare cross-study her two patients like that, would she? _Could _she do that?

"Liberty's cousin, Katie, just texted me. She's piggybacking off the parade fame and media speculation about you two, and wants to do a photo shoot. Her boutique's going to run a 'Pretty and Patriotic' theme."

"Oh." Steve blinked, taking it all in. His picture had been taken by reporters, but no one truly professional. "So we'll get our picture taken…together?"

"Not right away, I think. She's still sending me more details." as if to support that statement, Pepper's phone buzzed again. She didn't dare go into the bedroom until Katie was done. Tony wasn't always friendly when he woke up. Premature waking resulted in a whiny, stubborn, grabby husband determined to smother-cuddle her into silence. Her manicured nail stroked the phone, scrolling through messages.

"Liberty will go in for hair and makeup at eight. She'll do an hour photo-op by herself. You'll come in at nine. Katie wants an interactive photo-op centered around soldiers and patriotism." summarized Pepper. She paused, phone buzzing again.

"And she wants you to bring your old uniform. The little one. Your Captain America one, too. Just go ahead and bring _all_ of your old army gear." Pepper huffed, tired of reading the slew of messages. Katie seemed a little unorganized, constantly throwing in things she forgot to mention earlier. The result was a cluster of short 'and this, and that' messages Pepper didn't really care to read.

"Does _everyone _know about that?" Steve mumbled, slightly peeved about a stranger mentioning his tiny uniform. He wasn't used to his private life being on display. It was about as awkward and embarrassing as being able to search himself on the internet. Howard Stark kept most of his effects after he froze in the ocean, and passed them off to Tony, but Howard Stark wasn't the only man who knew him. People he'd willed things to – or their children – ended up donating them to the local museum.

Other things had been reproduced in mass quantities as "authentic" merchandise. Thankfully, Tony had been able to recover his watch with Peggy's picture. Fury had a death grip on his army file, which Steve was grateful for. The more secret and sacred parts of himself were safe. It was nice to think he still had things to call his own, things worthy of sharing when – _if_ – he and Liberty came to that point where learning about each other was important.

Pepper gave a tight shrug. The Ramseys were a special case. Their wealth gave them access to things normal people could only hope for. "Looks like the last of the messages." mused Pepper, enjoying the silence of her phone. "Are you going to go?"

It would look suspicious for him to turn down the granddaughter of Caroline Ramsey. That and, as an Avenger, he was to keep peace with the public. The shoot was in his honor, too, which made it nearly impossible to decline. There was a chance that he may hear or see something incriminating, too. "Yes." Steve determined after a short while.

"Great! I'll let her know." Pepper quickly texted back. "Have a good night, Steve."

"You too, Pepper." she slipped out of his room quietly.

"Oh, and Steve?" the redhead popped back in briefly.

"Yeah?"

"Don't let Liberty know you're coming. Katie won't. She wants it to be a surprise. I think you'll be able to answer that question in your head when you see her tomorrow." Steve blushed. It was possible, he supposed. The human face was very revealing. Suddenly showing up to the photo shoot _would _give him a genuine reaction. "Actions speak louder than words" and whatnot.

"Thanks Pepper." Steve grinned softly, shutting the door as she moved down the hall. How did women _do_ that? He took the tiny uniform off the hanger, running his fingers over it fondly. Little Steve wore this; he was skin, bones, and determinism in army colors. It was like touching his past…revisiting old friends…reliving the first motions of Captain America.

_"You're about to be the last eligible man in New York. You know, there's three and a half million women here."_

_"Hell, I'd settle for just one_."

And he had. She was the only one.


	11. Pretty and Patriotic

The Pursuit of Liberty

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**AN: **Thanks to Torilovesu, PirateShipForever69, blown-transistor, Midnight Chamber, and ThoughtlessRage for reviewing the last chapter. _Cosmopolitan _is mentioned in this chapter. I don't own it. To my knowledge Katie's boutique – Flash Fashion – does not exist. This may be my last update for a few days – I have homework and other things I need to attend to.

To make up for that, though, I've made this one longer than usual. I may make Saturdays my update day for this story. It doesn't have many chapters left. This isn't proof-read because I don't have time (babysitting duties await).

To PirateShipForever69: Oh, I see! I get it now. Glad you liked the chapter :D.

To Midnight Chamber: Katie might be working for Caroline :D. But, the question is: is she a willing coconspirator or not?

To ThoughtlessRage: I did so enjoy the cookie dough line. I'm glad I wasn't the only one to get a laugh out of it.

* * *

Ten: Pretty and Patriotic

Liberty wanted to kill someone. She'd been woken up early for the second day in a row. Someone had to pay. Peeling her eyes open, the redhead stared blearily at Pepper. "Time to wake up! You need to eat, wash your face, and do all that good stuff before going to Katie's boutique." reminded Pepper.

"I don't wanna." mumbled Liberty, dragging the sheets over her rumpled and twisted hair. It was a ruby red rat's nest around her head. Sadly, for as messy and covering as it was, she could not feign deafness. Her mind was beginning to whir with thought, things like 'Katie' and 'wake up!' stirring her. Would it be terrible of her to deny that photo shoot?

Liberty didn't think so, but was conflicted. Katie never laid a hand on her. And yet, she grew up in the same environment. Caroline groomed her like a beloved pet, and Katie could do no wrong. Seeing her just reminded Liberty of the double standard.

Of the way Katie never questioned anything. Caroline did well to punish her discretely, but Liberty imagined Katie would've caught on. Children were more aware than adults ever gave them credit for. Katie, at the very least, should've realized Caroline's frequent chilly remarks and slight sneers at her deceased mother were in bad taste. But, Liberty reasoned, Katie likely couldn't discern Caroline's comments as wrong.

Katie's mother, Polly, was a full-blooded Ramsey. She and Katie were raised completely in the Ramsey environment. Like Polly, Katie had been groomed. Caroline's opinions and requests of perfection didn't seem that torturous or far-fetched to either of them. Though Liberty never complained directly, she would voice her distress in a vague way by using the snooty private school as a stage.

Spinning tales of snobbish students speaking negatively about her partial Ramsey origins did little to move Polly. Her main responses were to silence them by becoming the portrait of an elegant woman. Hints of physical altercations were rewarded with a roll of her black eyes. According to her logic, well-learned people of wealth would never stoop to such things as abuse. In the end, Liberty just clammed up.

Polly had the same ideas as Caroline. Both women insisted that she conform to relieve her problems. Liberty felt trapped and alone. Eventually, she caved. The Ramseys refused to acknowledge anything but success.

They wouldn't recognize things that didn't interest or benefit them. Yesterday marked the first time in three years that Caroline truly looked at her. Polly and Katie, too. That made Liberty frown. _Am I interesting or beneficial_? wondered Liberty, knowing how they thought.

"Get that hair! Yum, yum!" laughed Pepper. Julienne leaned out of his mother's arms, snapping a strand of Liberty's long, uncovered hair like a reign as he nibbled on the end. Using a kid was cheating, but effective. Liberty gently extracted her hair from his tiny fist and sat up. She followed Pepper to the kitchen where a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast waited.

_I've gone out for a little while, but I'll be back. Enjoy breakfast everyone!_

— _Steve_

The note sat by several identical plates covered with napkins. Steve would leave a note, wouldn't he? It was cute. Liberty spliced an egg idly with her fork, chasing it around the plate. "Now that you're up and eating, here." Pepper dropped September's issue of _Cosmopolitan _on the table.

Liberty nearly choked on the egg. The woman on the cover didn't matter; the luring article titles did. Sexy things were common in the modern culture, but Liberty didn't exactly like it advertised. Sex was something she thought should be kept private. Staring at the cover boasting fifty couple moves, tips for a better orgasm and the like was a bit unnerving.

It was akin to watching porn live, Liberty imagined. "Wh…why is this here?" she asked, ignoring it in favor of breakfast.

"I thought you'd like to read it. There's confidence tips, success stories, and interesting psychological articles on how the body is absently empowered by certain things."

"I don't really want to know how to increase my orgasm." Liberty mused dryly and ate a layered stab of bacon and egg. Pepper rolled her eyes. It was a good thing Julienne wouldn't remember any of this.

"It's not _for _that."

"Really? I was under the impression that _Cosmopolitan _loves naughty things." Liberty chuckled, teeth scraping lightly against the fork as it split her crooked grin.

"I know how you feel about Katie…about that part of your family. I figured this would help. Aside from that, well, you're going to a contemporary photo shoot. Gone are the days of modesty, which you value. This may mentally prepare you for what Katie might ask." Pepper did have a point there, Liberty admitted. Few photographers encouraged wearing full attires nowadays.

If she was totally alone, and knew that, Liberty had no qualms with running around half dressed. Sometimes it even felt _good_. But….to do it in front of a camera? Where people may see her or her back? That was unsettling.

Maybe reading the magazine would help. Pepper watched Liberty hunt several segments of bacon-topped eggs. Watching the introvert quietly pick at her breakfast gave Pepper an idea. Liberty could be outgoing and vivacious if given an opportunity and a push. "I'll take the awkwardness out of it for you. Hopefully one of the boys will walk in within the next ten seconds," she cleared her throat while propping the magazine up on the table and flipping to a random page, "'experts believe that girl-on-top can provides the perfect mix of feminine control and pleasure…'"

"NONE OF THAT! I _don't _need to hear that!" Liberty slapped her hand down on the article, preventing Pepper from reading anymore. Julienne giggled at the motion. Some of his favorite things to do were clapping and popping random things. Pepper grinned wickedly. Flushed, wanting to give Pepper nothing else to read, Liberty pinched the edge of the closest page and pulled the magazine towards her plate.

"Keep reading!" encouraged Pepper, planning to deposit Julienne in a bouncer after grabbing a plate for herself. Liberty groaned, hiding a blush by tilting her head towards the informative but somewhat scandalous magazine. It was really only scandalous because society had trouble with people sharing their sexuality and experiences. The world was gradually leaving the 'closed door' policy behind, but was doing so at an incredibly slow rate. She considered herself to be in that category; reluctant to reveal herself to anyone but the person she intended to marry.

_If _someone wanted to marry her. Liberty didn't think men would line up to be with an abused girl. Psychological backlash was a deal breaker for anyone. She combatted her unsettling thoughts by reading the magazine. Surprisingly, it had more to offer than sex tips and erotic fiction.

Inside Liberty found out how to deal with backstabbers, ensure office success, and glean personality information from shoes. Liberty barely finished her breakfast because she was so transfixed. Tony came in chuckling, breaking her concentration on the magazine. "Coriander's out shopping. Would you like me to call and ask her to pick up cookie dough?"

"Not funny, Tony." frowned Liberty. She fought down meaner things to say, the impulse to retaliate, by cleaning her plate. Tony just cackled. Sipping orange juice gave her the silence needed to think. It was six forty-five. Why would Coriander be at the store?

"How is Cori at the store? It's not even seven!" Tony looked up from his steaming coffee, disappointed that his latest sip had been interrupted. Stark was grateful he had a good poker face. Pepper and Coriander were quick to point out Liberty would clam up at the teasing. He hadn't expected her to actually think and retort. Coriander, Clint, and Steve were supposed to be with Dr. Abbot right now.

"We're Avengers," Tony shrugged casually as he praised himself for the reply, "we get special privileges, especially considering we have kids to feed."

"Ah." Tony could tell Liberty didn't totally buy that. She looked to be considering the validity of that comment. It was his job – and Bruce's, Thor's, Pepper's and Natasha's – to make sure she didn't ask about the missing house members. The task was doable, he thought, when considering Liberty had to be ready for Katie's photo shoot.

"Here." he passed her a second plate of food. Clint would stop and get something on the way home, Tony knew. Hawkeye didn't really like cold food, and wanted to abuse the luxury of being grounded in Stark Tower. It gave him a chance to sample the many fast food places instead of relying on SHIELD's kitchen or the cheap meals he stocked while on missions. "You'll need to load up for the shoot. They don't go by quickly. Trust me." Tony looked sagely for a second, nodding to assure Liberty of his experience.

She ate the second plate, returned Pepper's magazine, and indulged in several stress-reduction techniques compliments of Bruce and Pepper. Keeping Liberty's stress levels low would prevent a family catastrophe. Happy drove her to an impressive four-story building titled Flash Fashion. In the window sat a sign: free wine samples for buyers! Spend one hundred dollars and get a massage! Her gut twisted uncomfortably. Like Katie, the store would be needlessly extravagant and draw in wealthy people.

In short, it would be an uncomfortable hell.

The first floor was massive – _big enough for an Olympic swimming pool, _she thought – and home to all sorts stocked shelves, pedestals bearing shoes, stylishly dressed mannequins, jewelry cases exploding with color, and racks of clothes divvied by style. Some hung on wall-mounted brackets while others were grounded and dangling from circular metal supports.

Liberty wasn't sure of the current theme, but found herself surrounded by pastels, lace, and floral items. She felt lost in a maze of cloth and color. Hoping her idle browsing would attract a sales rep, Liberty picked through the nearest rack. It was a pale caramel camisole with white trim that bore a fifty dollar price tag. Why, she couldn't imagine, but the camisole boasted breast padding and organic material.

"You must be Liberty." a young blonde woman approached, wearing a tight peach button-up shirt and black pencil skirt. She smiled, tan skin splitting to reveal insanely white teeth. "Katie said you'd be coming. Come with me." her black heels clicked across the wooden floor, around the checkout counter displaying more jewelry, towards the back and to the left where an elevator waited. Liberty was surprised to see an elevator, but noted it must be for wheelchair accessibility. "You'll want floor two." informed the woman.

"Okay." the faster the doors closed, the better. The attendant seemed overly perfect and amiable. It was almost scary. Adding that to the overly lavish décor and ridiculous supply of clothes, Liberty felt trapped in some stuffy rich kid mall. Labeled elevator buttons answered her curiosity as to what lie on the other floors.

Enjoying the quiet, Liberty took a few seconds to read the buttons: Store, Photography and Development, Storage and Design, and VIP Services. The glitz and glamour caused the origin of Katie's store to seem irrelevant. Clearly the VIP services and prices weren't hurting business. Customers of Flash Fashion obviously had money to spend. She stepped out of the elevator and into an equally large floor packed with expensive cameras, large lights, a wide green screen, and colorful prop areas located at the opposite end of the room.

Four people scuttled around, all assisting Katie as she stood impatiently sipping a coffee. An expensive camera that could easily be the width of Liberty's torso hung from her neck. "There you are! _Finally_! Now we can get started!" Katie closed the distance between them with brisk, predatory steps. Her smile was wide and perfect, but seemed tight. "Jordan, what's our lineup?" Katie half-turned to eye one of her assistance, a hand placed firmly on Liberty's shoulder.

_An iron hold just like Caroline_, Liberty frowned, refusing to cringe.

"One secretary outfit, a file clerk getup, teacher ensemble, social worker, nurse, telephone operator, saleswoman, one or two mechanical shots, and two performer costumes."

"Sounds perfect. Let's get started!" Katie ushered Liberty towards a massive vanity lit well enough to be a catwalk. It was carved from a cold, glossy pale-peach material and stacked with various cosmetics. Liberty wasn't really one for makeup since the only thing she wished to cover was her back. She was able to recognize eye shadow, mascara, lipstick, and eyeliner, but little else. Her mother didn't wear a lot of makeup, either (from what she remembered), and Liberty never cared to go into Caroline's room and investigate what she wore.

She was given ibuprofen, waxed, exfoliated, steamed, had a facemask applied, and wore cucumbers over her eyes before any dressing occurred. The process of primping was exhausting in itself. Her long hair was thoroughly scrubbed and coated in several products to give it flexibility and a shiny, silky texture. Liberty's naturally tight curls were loosened by creative styling. Once her hair was finished Katie deemed her ready for makeup.

Her first outfit mimicked a secretary. Liberty had no objections about representing a polite and modest time period. Most of her objections came from the way Katie tried to modernize and sexualize the key pieces of 1940s womanhood. It was disgraceful, Liberty thought. Any disagreements she had were voiced carefully, politely, and coolly.

They were all written off. Katie claimed she wasn't disgracing the jobs so much as she was _spicing them up_. Because Liberty was the model, however, she got final say in what went on. Katie wouldn't have a shoot without her. Liberty didn't think it was wrong to indulge in such a smug feeling, and did as she met Katie halfway on the spied up forties costumes.

Women in the 1940s could easily be sexy, but didn't want to be for everyone. People back then had a special someone to save themselves for. Keeping that in mind, most of Katie's _modifications _were nothing more than two loose top buttons or a slightly provocative pose that showed no extra skin. A pouty expression or partially parted mouth worked wonders, as it had for Marilyn Monroe. Overall, though, it was hard to make a 1940s secretary sexy.

The file clerk was easier to breathe life into, especially with the props. She wasn't stuck behind a desk! Liberty changed out of her long-sleeved blouse and pencil skirt prior to shooting the scene. It seemed Katie and her attendants had a different wardrobe for each impersonation. Her blouse and pencil skirt was traded for a light blue blouse, peplum black jacket, heels, and a pair of slacks.

She liked that 1940s women were light with their makeup. It kept her from getting her face scrubbed off in between changes. Liberty wasn't completely crazy about the red lipstick because of her red hair, and the fear that there could be such a thing as _too much _red, but Katie wasn't stopping. After several 'innocent but sexy' poses with the files Liberty found herself in the shoes of a teacher. Katie bounced between the old, strict 1940s fashion and the luxurious, colorful "New Look" wardrobe inspired by post-war events.

A handful of children were brought in to be her students. She received a brief explanation of the green screen while more muscled assistants situated six desks in front of the screen according to Katie's directing. With computer editing the green screen would seem like a packed, old-fashioned classroom. Liberty was merely playing the part of the teacher. Pointing at the board, saluting the flag that would be added in later, stooping to 'help' students, and crossing her legs while grading papers were some of the motions Katie requested.

A separate shot void of students had Liberty taking a bite of an apple in slow motion. She felt a bit naughty biting into the apple, but that was likely because of the way Katie had her sit on the desk. Or lay, rather, because her feet were tucked in towards her bottom as she propped herself up with one arm and nibbled on the deliciously real apple. Her breakfast had nearly left her due to Katie's perfectionism and pickiness. Tony warned her that the process would be long, but Liberty thought this was absolute murder.

She'd only been through three costumes and she was already beginning to perspire. Her breaks consisted of wardrobe changes, makeup touchups, and drinking plenty of water. Katie constantly checked her watch and phone, pausing occasionally to review pictures on her camera. Shooting someone mentioned by Steve Rogers was clearly increasing her business and stuffing her schedule. She looked quite content with all the recognition, her inner spoiled child slipping out by the way she giddily eyed her phone and mumbled something about accepting and rejecting like she was playing a game.

It made Liberty want to vomit. Or maybe that was the lack of food setting in. And the bright lights. "Shit. We have a half-hour, guys! Let's speed this up!" she was acknowledged by a chorus of garbled noises. Liberty wasn't sure what made ten in the morning special, but didn't have much time to think.

She was dressed, undressed, redressed, tugged, pulled, bent, carried to new props, directed, and photographed into near blindness. Liberty's head spun something unmerciful. There was only a vague recollection of being the social worker, nurse, telephone operator, saleswoman, mechanic (that one she remembered because of the bandanna bundling her red hair up), and Andrews Sister-like singer. Katie had significantly decreased her pose shots for whatever reason, taking only three to five where earlier she'd taken seven or nine. Should she be grateful or worried that there was so much emphasis on ten?

_I hope we're finished soon. I'm STARVING_! Liberty incompletely refrained from threading her lower lip through her teeth after _another _snippy reminder from Katie. The eager assistant known as Linda darted over to hide the light gashes creasing the layer of red on her lip. Linda squealed joyously at how _perfect _the shoot was going to be, praising the color scheme and matching aspect. _Matching? _Liberty blinked, sparing a quick look at her blue collar studded with white stars, the white body wrapped in red at the waist, and a skirt fanning out in a ruffled white and blue alternating pattern, _who's matching? I'm the only one here!_

Instead of giving her a blue helmet blazoned with USA, she received a little blue hat that could easily perch on her red hair. Katie took her time on this costume, Liberty noticed. Liberty felt like a puppet as she raised her red gloved arms up and down, put one on her hip, lifted them high in the air, and jumped to showcase complimenting white-silver shoes. "Can I take a break now?" Liberty tried not to moan as she graciously accepted a hanky to blot at her heated neck and face.

"I suppose. Laura, keep her spritzed and hydrated. The second half of the shoot won't go well if she's sweaty and disgusting." Katie instructed, picking idly at her nails before scrolling through the plethora of pictures. _YOU'RE sweaty and disgusting_, Liberty thought childishly as she sighed through her nose. When hungry her 'niceness' barriers often crumbled and let out the opinionated, emotional beast within.

"_Second _half?" Liberty couldn't help but parrot. Wasn't an hour long enough? She would surely snap if left under these conditions any longer. Katie wasn't feeding her! The breaks were hardly long enough for her to run off and find something. Asking one of the assistance for something small was out of the question, too.

Katie, like Caroline, required a full and constant staff devoted to _her_. She came first because she was the _photographer_ and was doing all the hard, important work. "Don't worry," smiled Laura as she led Liberty to a nearby chair and offered her another bottle of water, "this part will be fun!"

"If you say so." Liberty mumbled unenthusiastically. "Will it be long? I'm kind of hungry." she admitted sheepishly, dulling her near-automatic brusqueness. Laura hadn't done anything to her, after all.

"I have some trail mix." Laura fished around in her pocket. It wasn't much, just something unused and left over from her morning yogurt and oatmeal.

"May I? Would you mind?"

"Not at all." Laura handed the bag over. It was hardly enough to miss.

* * *

Steve thought he did a fine job avoiding Liberty. It was an order, not a choice. Well, there was a speck of his own will in there. Katie suggested his appearance at the photo shoot be a surprise. Seeing their chemistry at the parade had her itching to do a set just for Liberty and a set for them together.

Scheduling Liberty's set first gave her time to plan for their combined shooting. It prevented Steve from suffering through the menial things like makeup renewal and wardrobe changes, too. Personally, Steve wouldn't have minded any of that a bit. He'd always been rather curious as to how women in the 1940s primped themselves, and the curiosity had never been answered because of their desire to overlook him. The process was likely more complex now than it had been, but it still would've been interesting to watch.

She'd probably make nice faces during the primping, too. Opening her mouth for the lipstick, half-lidding her eyes for the mascara…all sensual things Steve couldn't get out of his head. How many posters of Marilyn Monroe's famous pouty, beckoning smile had he seen in his day? Too many to count. He remembered the posters of his time clearly, so much so that they almost felt tattooed in his mind.

Women of the 1940s had nice, lean legs, narrow waists, gorgeous smiles, and eyelashes that could stop a man's heart. Waiting to see if she'd stop his heart at the photo shoot didn't take long. He'd eaten an early breakfast, dropped his bag off at his apartment, gone for a run, showered at his old apartment to prevent waking anyone in Stark Tower, and met with Dr. Abbot for a personal session before Clint and Coriander arrived. He was looking for professional. feminine advice on what to do next since coming to the realization that he would pursue a relationship with Liberty. She was overjoyed, reveling in his advancements and even lightly teasing him about his modern crush.

She'd seen the parade footage and thought Liberty showed healthy improvement. Liberty was joking, smiling, and letting a bit of her true personality out. Dr. Abbot thought Steve's photographed intervention between Liberty and Caroline was immensely encouraging to the both of them. Steve was asserting himself in a baser male way that was innately familiar; it would be comforting and understandable.

If anything, it was something he could fall back on. Men weren't always emotional, but they understood emotion. Steve coming to her rescue like he did activated the soldier part of him, which is what Abbot wanted to see. That brief experience as a dominant male, as soldier Steve, likely cleared his head. Maybe not as much as he wanted, but Dr. Abbot had a feeling Steve had untangled some of the more complex inner workings of his own mind.

The fact that Liberty didn't back down showed strengthening confidence, Dr. Abbot jovially reported to Steve. Whatever they were doing was working. She was delighted to receive Coriander's report on the _Burlesque _movie night. Liberty related to Tess on a level typically only reachable by extensive therapy. Dr. Abbot then deduced that this happened because she linked movies with her grandfather, who was a good influence.

She was ascending to normality at an unexpected but beneficial rate. The tender encouragement of her housemates was constantly reinforcing the invisible and subconscious damage evident in her Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. They ended up talking more about Liberty than Steve, but through that Dr. Abbot could really tell he cared about her. He'd flush slightly or flash a boyish, crooked smile as her name was continuously mentioned. It was cute.

Dr. Abbot could offer nothing less to Steve than for him to trust himself. She could glean 1940s traditions and mindsets from books, but couldn't force an answer from that like Steve wanted. Reading about the past was one thing; dealing with a person from the past was another. The 1940s were wildly different from the modern world. As a man from the 1940s Steve would know his own feelings on right and wrong; he would be able to decode the messages of his own body, virgin or not.

Pepper faxed over her humorous account of the _Cosmopolitan _tactic. Dr. Abbot was highly amused. She told Steve that – however he decided to approach this matter, if it all worked out and they became a couple – it would be an interesting adventure. Steve blushed heavily, taking a small break before Coriander and Clint arrived for an official meeting on Liberty's recovery status. He was sent out at some points due to Dr. Abbot's wish not to cross-contaminate her psychological studies, and Steve would spend the quiet minutes outside her door thinking about the rest of his day.

He was used to being on a schedule. Ever attentive, Steve would mentally check and recheck until he was comfortable. There was a certain comfort to be had in knowing everything fit and that he'd parceled his time out to get it all done. Dividing the hours between his Avengers duties, the public, training, and himself was very taxing. _We'll be at a photo shoot together very soon, _Steve always found himself thinking while he waited.

"Here I am." Steve whispered to himself, ducking out of the duffle bag strap and his reminiscing as the floor attendant led him to the elevator. He smiled politely, largely ignoring the feasting look of appraisal she gave him. It reminded him of the one woman who kissed him as Peggy rounded the corner. And the rounds she let out into his unpainted vibranium shield as he stood next to Howard. Two helpers were waiting on him when the doors opened.

One set to work unpacking his duffel bag and hanging it up as the other led Steve to the nearest bathroom. He emerged dressed as Captain America. Steve's heart galloped slightly when he saw Liberty in a chorus girl uniform. Katie could've only gotten the design from the museum, as photos back then had no colors. It brought back fond memories, the sight of that uniform.

Steve assumed it'd been made just for Liberty due to the snugness. Her little breasts were hugged by the white material of the chest, and her nipped waist was perfectly wrapped in red. "Can I take this off now? It's really hot. If not, can we get some fans going?" Liberty frowned, her back to him as she fanned herself.

"I'd hate for you to take it off. I just got here." Steve grinned. Her eyes lit up as she turned. Delight warmed Steve's chest as he realized she felt that way because of _him_.

"_Steve_! What are you doing here?" her fingertips touched her perfectly red lips in a brief moment of shock. She crossed over to him within a matter of minutes, blue eyes sparkling like firelight as she approached. They ignored the flash of Katie's camera. Liberty held her arms out for a gleeful hug and Steve complied. He was pleased to see she'd survived her hour-long session alone.

"Katie's going to take my picture." Steve flashed a close-lipped grin. It amused him that she didn't know. Her childish enthusiasm was bleeding through and he couldn't love her more than he already did. Many modern things confused him, but not Liberty. She was wonderfully simple; understandable, but not forward.

Relaxed, but not 'easy' (as Tony put it). "Our picture." corrected Steve. He couldn't do this without her.

"And I'm going to start with the two of you saluting." Katie broke in, motioning for them to step closer together as she adjusted her lens. Steve hoisted her onto his shoulder at Katie's request, holding his shield up proudly as she snapped the next picture. The next three pictures mirrored his old stage days; someone dressed up as Hitler and tried to make off with Liberty instead of sneaking up on him. She spotted her kidnapper in the first picture, was captured in the second, and saved in the third.

Katie called for a quick costume change. Steve stayed in his Captain America suit; apparently she still had use for him in it. Liberty was thrown into a _modified _version of his old army uniform. The alteration included leaving the front open to reveal an earth-colored tube top. He bet there was a similar, matching scanty bottom to that set, but said nothing.

His blue eyes drank her in, hypnotized and riled by how she made his uniform look. It was sexy. Her stomach was flat, but not toned. She looked soft and out of place when he considered what the uniform represented. But her spirit was there, he knew.

Her spirit fit the bill just like his had. Steve couldn't help but laugh at the fact that his chinstrap didn't touch her. It hadn't on him either. The pants of his uniform looked painted on her. He was tempted to ask if she'd been oiled and forced into them.

His old physique was petite for a man, bony too, and totally different than hers. Liberty was petite, too, but possessed curved hips. Hips that seemed attractively large and compensating for her lack of breasts. He expected – hoped – the button and zipper of his pants to snap any moment. Katie took another salute picture, having them face one another this time instead of standing side by side.

"I'd really like to button this up. In the 40s you couldn't get away with this in the army." Liberty pointed out. "And I really don't feel like being on the receiving end of media backlash for disgracing the uniform."

"You don't disgrace my uniform." assured Steve throatily with a grin, pinning her with lust-darkened eyes. He tried not to let his eyes roam over so blatantly, but felt that he was failing. His eyes greedily commemorated every little detail of her in his clothes. The red of her hair against the fabric, her pale skin made luminescent by the colors, and how the pants hugged her lower body. Steve could feel the desire welling up in him as his heart pounded.

Heat laced his blood, warming his body until standing still was unbearable. He had so much love and admiration for her, for what she'd accomplished and how she acted. Steve felt like keeping quiet, keeping his nervous secret, would kill him if nothing happened soon. Katie had Steve piggyback her in front of the green screen, setting the illusion that he was carrying her from a warzone. Her thighs were relaxed at his side because he supported her with ease, but Steve couldn't help but wonder how they would feel clenched around him in desperation.

In need. In passion. The idea made him smack his lips and swallow thickly, body already beginning to feel the effects of the large lights without his blood boiling. His skin began to sweat lightly, prompting Katie to set up fans so his costume wasn't drenched before the shoot was finished. Steve was grateful to have the cool air circulating; it would keep any problems at bay.

He hoped.

Liberty sighed blissfully and languidly at the presence of cold air. Steve bit his lower lip slightly, relishing the sound. She was on his back, unaware of his condition, and elicited the noise deathly close to his ear. It made everything in him tremble with hunger. The threads of rationality and propriety holding him together were unraveling at a mind-numbing speed.

Katie sent Liberty to the makeup station to prepare for the next picture. Steve was left feeling slightly frustrated and charged with something primal. He could feel the descriptions cycling through his head on repeat as they threatened to put him in a trance: _love, want, touch, feel, hold, _taste. The curiosity would drive him insane, Steve feared. He wanted to know how her lips felt and tasted more than anything.

If he was allowed one thing in the modern time, it would be her kiss. Those rarely painted lips had been bugging him for quite some time. His craving was exacerbated by the perfume he could smell lingering alongside him. Katie snapped a shot of Liberty covered in fake blood, draped limply in Steve's arms. Dr. Abbot had long since talked him through any signs of delayed PTSD, but the sight gave Steve an icy feeling in his gut.

Seeing her dead wasn't something Steve ever imagined. It certainly wasn't something he wanted to see, even if it was fake. He felt his stomach plummet. "Mmm…it's just not right. Mind changing into your army uniform, Steve? I think that will resonate better." Katie spoke mostly to herself, but indicated that she wanted him to change. Changing came quickly - _too_ quickly - for Steve.

In a matter of minutes he was back to holding Liberty in his arms. She had her eyes closed, arms hanging down like she was nothing but dead weight. The fake blood painting her bare torso was unsettling. Katie made it look like she'd incurred a fatal bullet wound. Steve's strong imagination was perfect for drawing, but awful for reality.

Part of him couldn't seem to remember that this was all fake. He felt tears burning at the back of his eyes as she lay perfectly still. She was holding her breath until Katie took the perfect shot. It felt like hours, not seconds, until Liberty could wash the mess off and return to normal photos. "Now that you're dry let's do a costume change." Katie nodded her head to Liberty and the clothes rack set up not too far away.

"Give her the Andrews Sister uniform, but leave the hat."

"Sure thing, Katie." Steve didn't know her assistants' names and didn't want to. Liberty returned in an outfit that reminded him of Peggy. It was the wrong color, and Peggy would never wear a skirt that short, but the look was still uncanny.

"Okay, in this one you're going to run to Steve and jump into a hug. He's just been…um…he's recently returned and you're overjoyed to see him. Something like this actually happened to you, didn't it?" Katie lowered her camera for a second, waiting for Steve to answer. "You liberated a camp or something, right?"

_Or something_, Steve resisted the urge to snort and correct her. He'd done far more than liberate a camp that day. Katie was annoying with all her finery and modernism. With her half-hearted interest in history. It was almost insulting to Steve and who he was.

"Um…_duh_!" Liberty rolled her eyes as she looked to Katie. "What didn't he do? He's _Captain America_!" Steve grinned. Oh how he wished he could nuzzle her without Katie snapping a picture. She was always there for him, dog or not.

"You're just so _talkative _today!" laughed Katie. She meant the noise to sound jovial, but Steve detected tightness. He got the impression that Katie could care less about Liberty's input. Steve was already less than impressed with her directing style. The soldier knew little of modern processes such as photo shoots, but knew they shouldn't be run like a cruel dictatorship.

Liberty ignored that barbed reply. "So am I literally jumping to him or what?" her stomach growled softly. Steve could only imagine how hungry she was, being here an hour before him. Living under the ever-changing whims of her cousin was draining. Especially in the steamy conditions barely relieved by small fans.

"No. You jumping will just give me a blurry shot. "Jumping" is just the term I'll give for my inspiration. Steve, do you mind picking her up?" he could thank her for that, at least. Steve was always looking for a reason to hold her. He could actually feel her thighs through the soldier uniform. There were no gloves to contain his broad fingers. Folding his palms around the back of her upper thighs, Steve resisted the urge to wiggle them around and explore.

The idea was incredibly tempting. So much so that he could barely keep his fingers still. He was sure they were already moving against her, stroking the tight material ever so softly and discretely. Or maybe his imagination was running off on him again because he wanted it to happen. "Good," Katie broke the spell their eyes made, one Steve didn't even realize he'd been sucked up in, "now kiss him."

"Um…_what_?" floundered Liberty, turning her head to look at Katie as Steve inched his face forward. He wasn't about to deny orders. A kiss required two people, and he would do his part. His mouth watered eagerly for her as his brain began to repeat the tantalizing descriptions from earlier.

"Kiss him. Think about it, he's been gone for _months_! You want to love people who've just returned like he did! It'll be a good emotional hook. Now kiss!"

Liberty swallowed, looking up at Steve. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd been kissed. Now that she thought about it, was there ever a time that she _had _been kissed by someone she didn't consider family? It was hard to remember. But…Steve was a friend.

What if this messed things up? Or, worse, what if he somehow came to resent her for an unwanted kiss? Terrified and uncoordinated, Liberty pecked him on the lips quickly. There…it was over! _I think I hit his head_, she thought with slight horror as the light throbbing started in her forehead.

The touch of his lips to hers was like a spark. It happened, but the sensations processed a few seconds later. His lips were soft and plush, pliable because he'd put no force behind the quick kiss. She could smell the Aqua Velva and a scent that was distinctly him. Liberty tried not to shiver, her legs already twined tight around his hips as Steve held her close.

"Seriously? What, are you kissing your grandma? That's _not _how you kiss someone." Katie scoffed.

"Well, I don't suffocate them with my tongue on the first kiss." retorted Liberty coolly. Steve could tell she was aggravated by hunger. It was amusing to see her fight back, though. The shock on Katie's face was priceless. He watched the two cousins slip into a brief glaring match; it led him to believe Liberty's comment had a base Katie wasn't fond of.

"Kiss _longer_." huffed Katie. "Long enough for me to get a shot. It's really _not _that hard."

"It's not hard to be polite, either." Steve couldn't help but say. Disrespect rubbed him the wrong way, and always had. Katie didn't dare say anything, not to Captain America. She held up her camera again, waiting on them.

"You're bad." Liberty smiled, resting her forehead on his. Steve's body tingled as her lips brushed his. Who knew speaking could be so sensual?

"Just keeping her quiet." he mused. Proud of putting Katie in her place, Steve felt like he had enough adrenaline and testosterone to kiss her. Like he wanted to, not how Katie asked. "You want to really piss her off?" asked Steve.

"Steve!" Liberty didn't think he was one for coarse language. Everyone had their moment, she supposed. "Sure." the idea was too tempting to pass up.

"Do you trust me?"

"Would I let you hold me if I didn't?"

"I doubt it." Steve readjusted her. It was mostly to reestablish his grip. Part of him was dying for friction. He was so hard it hurt. Rogers though she could feel it, but didn't really care if Liberty could or not.

She did this to him. Drove him wild. It was simply a side effect of his feelings. He'd tried too long to fight it, and was now beginning to understand that it couldn't be subdued. He couldn't be sated until the truth came out.

Until she understood and hushed all of those curiosities that had never been answered seventy years ago.

"Ready?" Steve smirked against her lips, enjoying the shiver his warm breath inspired in her. _Just a taste. Give me a taste…_the little voice begged. He would get his taste. Liberty nodded, nearly melting when Steve's mouth fitted to hers. His lips were soft, belying the strong clench of his hands against her thighs.

The mixed sensations made her tense as the electricity and heat pooled between her thighs, carried on the shudders running through her. She gave a soft, breathy moan that Steve swallowed with gusto. It stroked his inner male to hear such a noise. Made him feel focused and greedy as he sought to wring more of those from her. "You guys are wooden! _Come on_!" whined Katie, disappointed as they shared a third lip-to-lip kiss.

What were they, twelve?

_You just need to shut up_, Steve thought. Katie wanted more and he'd give her more. His hand tentatively traced up the curve of Liberty's back, causing her to straighten as he did so. It evened out their lip-lock, making Steve smile. She was all nerves and innocence, something Steve wanted to hold, cherish, and claim for himself.

Did that make him a bad person? If so, well, he would gladly go evil for this. His hand came to rest in her hair, fingers tangling deeply in her tresses. It kept her anchored to his seeking mouth. He felt Liberty press trustingly into him as she slid her arms gently over his shoulders until she cradled his neck.

Relieved and mildly encouraging instructions from Katie fell on deaf ears. Steve funneled all of his focus and memory on this moment. His tongue poked questioningly at her bottom lip, tasting sweet lip gloss and something rich he could only assume to be lipstick. Liberty gradually opened her mouth, shocked by Steve's tongue. She'd never felt like this!

She registered the audible inhale of air through her nose. Her mouth was completely occupied with the taste of him. With his tongue. Liberty breathed in heat, electricity, excitement, his exploring tongue, and a taste that was notably Steve. The press of his lips was determined but soft, much like the perusing of his tongue across every inch of her mouth.

Her body tightened with the need for air. Liberty couldn't bring herself to ask for it. Steve didn't look like he wanted to release her. Hopefully it was by his own choice and not because Katie wanted another picture. His tongue left an addictive trail of numbness and heat, coating her mouth with a craving and burning only he could quench.

His hands massaged her thighs, fingers daring to dip in the concealed space between her legs. Liberty uttered another shaky moan. The ragged inhale he gave didn't help, either. He was suffering just like her, desperate for air but unwilling to break away. Her body became impossibly tighter as he lifted her legs, increasing the insistent press of the pants against her throbbing clit.

Steve moved his hips as inconspicuously as possible, hoping to drive the rubbing the material against her until she caved. It was the only way he could accurately show her what she did to him. This feeling happened to him every time. She had to understand. It was killing him!

But it was the sweetest way to die. Steve took the light clawing at his shoulders as a sign. She was building up just like him. About to explode and finally release some of the heat threatening to burn him up from the inside. His body trembled, enticed by her quaking hips and the moistness he could feel at his groin.

Her orgasm triggered his, and there was no sweeter feeling than shaking together. Steve thought he was most turned on by the fact that they were quiet about it. His boldest action involved ripping his helmet off so she could clench handfuls of his hair. The frustrated collision of her fingers against his helmet hinted at her quest to feel him, to anchor herself against him. He buried the satisfied growl in the column of her throat, tilting his head up to breathe a few seconds later.

He could throw her down and make love right now and have no issues with it. Steve wanted to love her, to protect her, to prove that she was worth more than what Caroline thought. "Great! That was fantastic! Now if you could just–"

"We're done." Steve croaked. He refused to be exposed to her snippy nonsense after such a blissful experience. "She's hungry and I have other things to do. We're done." and that was final. Dr. Abbot said to trust himself, and right now he wanted to get her away from Katie. Steve wanted to get her alone and find a spot to _maybe _– finally – speak his mind.

If he couldn't manage that in the full, he'd be able to share his intentions. Trusting himself included believing his gut. All he really knew was that he loved her, and what happened after this would be the start of his pursuit. "But I—" Katie started.

"_Done_." Steve stooped to retrieve his helmet, wrapping one arm tightly around Liberty as he did so.

"I'll get back to you when the pictures are developed, then." Katie replied weakly. Protesting Captain's leave would hardly change anything. He set Liberty down long enough to repack his duffle bag and led the way to the restroom. Steve took a few extra moments to clean himself as best he could before waiting outside for her. Once she joined him Steve took her to the motorcycle waiting out front in a reserved spot.

They were both dressed in civilian clothes now, evading excess attention as he drove to an old-fashioned diner he liked. It had nice music and a familiar color scheme of black, white, and red. The modern blend of wood, plastic, and metal, of tile and concrete, was comforting. It was slightly embarrassing to be sitting in a booth with a girl, facing her. Most of his dates in the 40s never got this far. Steve was beginning to get a little nervous despite what just happened, and stole glances of Liberty as they browsed the menu.

He reasoned that it was the whole 'love before sex' concept retaliating. A waitress smiled brightly, hair done up in a polka dotted ribbon to match the red of her skirt. They surprised her by readily ordering. Steve couldn't stop the grin of surprise when Liberty ordered a vanilla milkshake to go with her chicken tender and fry basket. Vanilla was his favorite flavor.

It wasn't too rich like chocolate, and tasted fine with most toppings whereas strawberry sometimes mixed and became too flavorful. In a brief moment of childish indulgence he ordered a vanilla milkshake with a loaded burger. They talked absently of the weather and smaller things while waiting on the food. Both wanted to dissect the ferocious kiss, but silently decided the restaurant was not the place to do so. Steve knotted the straw wrapper after poking the straw into his vanilla milkshake.

It kept him from reaching over to hold her hand. Such a thing might seem like too much too soon after what just happened. Steve didn't want to take his chances until they had an opportunity to talk about what happened. Liberty ate nicely as possible, hunger dulled by the milkshake. She had fun drowning her chicken in Dijon mustard.

She offered Steve a chicken tender, but he declined. Liberty supposed it was too small and dissatisfying when compared to the massive burger clenched between his hands. They finished nearly a half hour later, intending to beat the noontime rush. "No, no. Put that away." chided Steve as she reached for the wallet within her purse.

"It's fine. I can pay for mine."

"I didn't say you couldn't. I want to pay for it." Steve dropped his large hand over hers adamantly.

"I don't like things being handed to me." explained Liberty.

"It's not being handed to you." grinned Steve. "I owe it to you after that kiss." his smile was boyish and slightly wolfish. Liberty blushed, quietly tucking away her wallet. So he enjoyed that right, judging by what he said? That was comforting.

She liked it, too.

The urge to confess was strong. Steve fought it off, but barely. Sitting in a restaurant wasn't how he imagined asking out his first modern girlfriend. Hell, she was technically his first girlfriend _ever _because he and Peggy never went on that date. "I like…" he started, panicking when his lips betrayed his mind.

Liberty's eyes widened. Was he going to say it? Was he? Could people even _like _each other after what she and Steve had been through? Finding an Avenger as a dog wasn't how people usually met; it was even less likely to be a base for dating.

"I like your hair." Steve winced slightly as his voice lifted. It cracked too, but he was worried about what came out versus how it sounded. She didn't expect to hear a compliment, but accepted it graciously. He was a sweetheart; the fumbling and stuttering only made him cuter. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his dignity and shift the air of confusion and quietness around them.

"Want to head to the tower?" Steve questioned after paying for the bill. No pressing calls had been made. He assumed everything was fine at the tower; a calm environment might help him recover from whatever _that_ was. They had the opportunity to travel since he'd taken his motorcycle. It would be a quiet, close ride anywhere they went.

"Sure." giggled Liberty. "I can sleep off this stomach." she joked, rubbing her wonderfully stuffed stomach.

"What stomach?" Steve chuckled as he offered his arm and led her to the motorcycle.

"You and your sweetness." Liberty shook her head. "Guess I don't need to make you any pies. You'll be a diabetic if you get too much sugar in you."

"Hey, there's always room for pie." Steve spoke up as he revved the engine, checking one last time to make sure her hands were secure around his torso. Liberty's laugh was lost in the air as Steve took off to Stark Tower. They were met with Tony's large, shit-eating grin. That was never good, and Steve became instantly suspicious.

"Hello, lovebirds." Tony beamed. Steve frowned. How did that get out so fast? "Don't you just _love _camera phones? And our status, of course, because anything Avengers makes the news almost instantly." he cackled.

"Yay Steve!" Pepper wrapped him in a big, happy hug. Liberty was nearly tomato red with embarrassment. A picture of their lengthy kiss had quickly gone viral because of Katie's assistants sending it to their contacts. Steve really, honestly hated technology.

"I'm going to go lay down now." Liberty combed her fingers through her red hair. _And die, _she thought,_ and maybe squeal into my pillow before I die_. Steve didn't have the luxury of a quick escape. Tony wouldn't dare pass up an opportunity to tease him. They let Liberty slip away, confirming Steve's unspoken belief that he was the main attraction.

"Good for you, Steve!" Coriander cheered, bouncing Emery as he clapped. Everyone else was happy, so obviously he had something to clap about. Julienne giggled, but that was largely due to Tony's raspberry on his stomach. Stark _would_ make his child laugh at Steve, wouldn't he? Sorrel busied herself with babbling in baby gibberish and gumming Thor's beard while the god clapped him on the back with a meaty hand.

"Dr. Abbot will be delighted to hear about this." Bruce mused, pushing his glasses up on his nose. That made Steve nearly explode with embarrassment. He saw an awkward session in his future. Clint chuckled at that, enjoying the mental image of the forward therapist prodding Steve about his first modern kiss. Natasha drank in his mortification with delight.

Watching men squirm was always funny to her. That was likely due to her warped sense of humor, of course. "Spill." demanded Tony. "I want it quick and dirty. Give me the details." Tony waved his hands as if trying to draw Steve in. Steve frowned at his choice of words. He'd go out of his way to avoid anything 'quick and dirty' with Tony.

"Katie had us do some poses and wanted us to kiss. It was something about emotional hooks." Steve shook his head. He didn't really understand Katie, but that was mostly because he didn't want to know her. Rogers had no desire to know any Ramsey after watching all of that abuse footage.

"Okay, but how did it get to _that_?" Tony pointed happily to the screen. JARVIS alerted him of Steve's television presence far before Tony saw it. Once the genius billionaire tricked Julienne into another diaper and looked up, he froze the frame. Steve had a hell of a tale to tell when he got home. And now Tony wanted to hear it; he'd been waiting long enough.

Tony Stark did not like to be kept waiting.

"She said we were wooden. And told Liberty she kissed me like a grandma. As much as I hate speaking ill of others—"

"You do it to my face all the time." Tony reminded.

"You're a special case, Stark." laughed Steve. "Anyway, as much as I hate speaking ill of others, Katie isn't very accommodating. Or polite. She's rather pushy and insistent. We gave her what she wanted to keep her quiet."

"I don't think she wanted it." teased Tony. "Looks like _you_ did."

"Shut up, Stark."

"Dr. Abbot is going to have a _field _day." Tony spun Julienne around. His son giggled.

"You can't tell Dr. Abbot!" Steve protested firmly. "I don't want her to know – or to tell anyone – until I've found the right way to mention it to Liberty."

"Wait. So you did _that_—Tony pointed to the screen—and haven't established that you want to be an item?"

"I don't really like talking about personal things in a restaurant, Tony." Steve growled.

"Don't you think she already knows?" Tony gave Steve one of his signature smartass looks.

"Maybe." Steve fidgeted. "But that's not the point. _I _want to tell her, and I want it to mean something."

"You're so adorably romantic!" gushed Pepper. She then paused thoughtfully. Tony pouted as she slapped him. "Why can't _you _do anything sweet like that?"

"I got you strawberries!" defended Tony.

"Which I'm allergic to!" Pepper snorted.

"The point is: I made the effort. And it's kind of your fault for forgetting to remind me what you're allergic to."

"Ex_cuse_ me? What was that Anthony Edward Stark?"

"Woah-oh." Clint snorted through his nose, "She used your full name. You're in the doghouse."

"I don't remember everything about you, Pep! I get distracted by other things!" Tony knew this was just playful banter, and was glad for that.

"So I suppose you're fine with me knowing more about you than you do?"

"Of course! You're my assistant. You're _supposed _to know more about me than me. Also, I'm Tony Stark. Who _doesn't _want to know about me?"

"Me." sighed Steve with light agitation. Pepper giggled. Tony frowned.

"So what's your plan, Cap?" Tony redirected his focus and happily poked his nose into his favorite Capsicle's love life.

"To not take your advice." Steve answered absently. Pepper giggled again. Thor chuckled, too; the deep rumbling in his chest tickled Sorrel.

"We're going to the park tomorrow. You can do something there?" Clint offered. Steve puckered his lips thoughtfully. That would certainly be a surprise, but did he really want to do it in public?

"I'll think about it." Steve nodded to Clint. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to train." he gave a pointed look to Tony. Iron Man wouldn't dare interrupt him and his vibranium shield for mere teasing. He knew better.

"Giving the rest of your body a workout to play catch-up with your lips?" kidded Tony curiously. Steve glared at him, wishing Julienne wasn't cuddled like a fleshy shield.

"Shut up, Stark!"


	12. Tears, Blood, and Crystal

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to starkassemblyrequired, PirateShipForever69, pizzagirl, Drachegirl14, and miller330 for reviewing the last chapter. I've decided that my goal for reviews on this story is 65. Don't really know _why _that number, but it seems reachable and sensible. Enjoy this story while it lasts because it's almost over! Still thinking of making that other Steve/Liberty story; let me know if you guys would read it!

It would/will basically follow Liberty through _Captain America: The First Avenger_, but she's aware of what's happened in this story. Like…she realizes she's been thrown back in time and needs to get home xD. And fall in love with him all over again in order to do so. Only, in a dangerous WWII environment. I think I'd have to label it as a crossover between _Captain America: The First Avenger _and _The Avengers_ because Tony and the others would be in the story, too (in small portions, of course).

The Morse code may not work here. I don't know. If you see a weird space, that's probably where the Morse code used to be.

Currently unnamed, that story. I was thinking something like _The Pursuit of Liberty: Rewind_, but that seems cheesy. And backwards, because Liberty needs to make sure Steve likes _her_. Oh well…

Done talking. Enjoy the story! Thanks for all the lovely reviews and support! (love the couple name, starkassemblyrequired!).

To Drachegirl14: Katie's time will come. For now, though, enjoy a bit of Hammer getting his ass kicked.

* * *

Eleven: Tears, Crystal, and Blood

_Damn unintentional habit-forming schedule! _cursed Liberty as she peeled her eye open at six. Pepper and Bruce were solely to blame for this awful habit. She inhaled deeply, arching her back until it popped and relaxed like liquid. Sunlight streamed through her lone window as she stumbled out of warm sheets and shuffled to the bathroom. Maybe Bruce and Pepper weren't completely to blame; her bladder was a great motivator.

The waiting sheets and promise of uninterrupted slumber attracted her. Liberty smiled, nearly spellbound by the idea of curling up again. She could warm her clean, chilly hands in the sheets and burrow beneath them like always. Sleep in a silky cocoon of plushness and warmth. _I'm coming_, Liberty promised, sauntering towards her room once again.

Liberty was dazed with sleep. Teetering between absentmindedness and alertness. She wasn't awake enough to care that she was half dressed. Stark Tower was blissfully quiet, and would be for another hour or so.

_SNAP! CRASH! SLAM!_

Or so she thought. The destructive noises were especially sharp, leading her to believe they originated from the living room. That was the only possible explanation; the hallways only opened up into the living room. She padded down the carpeted hallway, cautiously sliding around the corner. Liberty was wary of sudden movements, and the repercussions of leaving the pointed corner in case the ruination wasn't finished.

"Steve?" he was the last person she expected to be destroying things. And yet, as he turned, she watched pieces of a mangled remote fly away with a viscous twist. The super soldier turned suddenly, finishing the process of turning the TV remote into a technological corkscrew. His blue eyes were dark, streaked with gray and navy blue like a raging, churning sea. Blonde brows were dropped tightly over those eyes.

He radiated bloodlust, and painted the living room in a new wave of it with each ragged breath. Liberty wouldn't shrink away. Steve didn't when she had her breakdown about the scars. She owed him the same courtesy. "What's going on, Steve?"

"Don't come in here." he quickly moved to block the television, but it did no good. The TV was muted but Caroline was still visible. She was doing another interview, likely commenting on the enthusiastic kiss snapshot noticeable behind her.

"It's okay, Steve." Liberty assured, breezing around the couch to sit next to where he stood. She'd dealt with Caroline for years. Her tactics and brutal, demeaning comments had lost most of their venom ages ago. The only reason she got worked up now was due to the Avengers pressing and allowing her to express all the pent up emotions Caroline never permitted. Other than that, Caroline had no effect on her.

Not when she was intangible and absent, anyways. Flashbacks made her a bit scary to deal with in person, but Liberty was gradually rediscovering her strength. Her rebellious spirit. Caroline couldn't hurt her once she had that back. She couldn't hurt her now with Steve around like he was.

Liberty saw no reason to worry because of that. She was almost confused as to why Steve was so eaten up about it. It hadn't happened to him! But, then again, Liberty wasn't used to seeing such an empathetic male. What she considered to be old memories, scabs, and scars were fresh and infected wounds to Steve.

The agony and frustration he felt was nearly unbearable. How could Liberty say it was okay when it wasn't? Grandmothers weren't supposed to speak like that of their grandchildren! And damn it, Liberty wasn't a whore! _Katie _was the one that asked for such a passionate kiss.

A calm demeanor, steady speaking voice, and the remaining conversation couldn't change the fact that Steve heard the word. He immediately called Senator Sterns, rousing him from sleep. The man had connections like Tony, but could open doors Stark couldn't. One of those doors was a phone call to the station manager that got Steve a list of new appearances Caroline was set to make. With that list came a reservation for a seat in the audience of the soonest show.

Steve was tired of sitting on the sidelines. Tired of playing nice when Caroline didn't want to. Liberty's coping mechanism was to ignore or repress disappointing events. His wasn't. Steve didn't havea coping mechanism; he just busied himself until he had no energy left.

It was like fighting – he swung and got back up until he _physically_ couldn't. This issue of no one coming to Liberty's defense – and her being _alright _with that, being _used_ to bearing the burden alone – was a fight he wouldn't retire from_._ _"I can do this all day_." he remembered saying. That applied almost _too_ well to this situation. Steve had no problems with confronting Caroline, cracking her mask, and standing up for Liberty.

He really _could_ do it all day. eHe H The first battle of the ceaseless war was at seven thirty; he'd be opposing her live. In front of all the cameras. Steve refused to pull punches; she wasn't. Imagining Caroline's shock, her floundering as Steve defended her granddaughter, made him smile.

Liberty's thumb gently rolling over his left-hand knuckles had something to do with that, too, he thought. "No," Steve shook his head as he came back, "it's not."

"It really is." she corrected with a dry laugh. Steve felt his fury bubbling up again. _How _could she be fine with that? _How_? Hurting her was the farthest thing from his mind, but Steve wished there was _something_ he could do to make her see it his way.

Kissing her senselessly until she agreed for the sake of breathing crossed his mind. If they were farther along in their relationship – or whatever it was – he'd make distraught, long, sweet love to her until she realized how he felt. He needed to see a crack in her cool façade where Caroline was concerned. A hint of fear or speck of hurt would help this endless flow of rage seem justifiable. "It isn't." insisted Steve, cupping her face so she met his gaze.

She smoothed long, small fingers over his hands. Steve felt his anger dissolving like smoke as those hands trailed like silk up his arms. "It is." promised Liberty as his hands absently drifted down to her waist. His hands seemed to be made for the spot where her little waist ended and the curve of her hips began.

"Caroline can talk all the shit she wants. I won't listen. The only one I want to hear from is you. And the others, I guess. You guys are the ones I live with, so why would I care what anyone else thought?"

That made Steve feel better in a very unexpected way. Her selective approval of opinions minimized her chance of being hurt. Steve was comforted most by the fact that she included him in that exclusive group. He'd have nothing but nice things to say about her. The super soldier exhaled calmly, dropping his lips to her temple.

This was enough. A moment like this was what he needed. Caroline couldn't interrupt and he could indulge all he wanted. It was eerie and amazing how a woman could diffuse a man. "You shouldn't. I just…I don't like it when people say things about others I care for, I guess. I can't handle that very well." mumbled Steve.

That's exactly what it was, he knew. His earlier temper tantrum seemed ridiculous now. He was sure reporting the telephone and remote as a casualty would have Tony laughing at him for the rest of the day. "Don't pout about it, Steve. Be proud of that. People don't have that kind of tenacity anymore. They don't make 'em like you anymore." Liberty comforted, tilting his chin up.

He should want to hold his head high. Holding fast to his morals and practices after seventy years in ice was something to be proud of. "They don't make 'em like you, either." Steve grinned down at her. Finding a small, of-age woman in 1945 was hard. Rogers distinctly remembered being surrounded by tall, unimpressed women.

Liberty blushed deeply as Steve gently tugged her into his lap. She was propped up against his chest, able to touch the bottom of his chin with her lips. The scent of Aqua Velva enveloped her as Steve curled down into her, dropping shy kisses that climbed up her neck and face. He was encouraged by the tight grip of her fingernails against his casual gray-blue tee. "As fun as this is," she said between kisses, "I have to go get pants on."

"You're just now realizing you don't have pants?" Steve broke away to ask.

"I remembered when you said 'can't' earlier. Don't judge me. You're distracting." her lips turned upward in a slight grin as he chuckled.

"You were wearing less yesterday." pointed out Steve as he tried, in vain, not to sound husky. Her brows lifted in agreement, words pointless as he kissed around her jawbone. His hands massaged the back of her thighs, thumbs brushing over more covering panties than what he assumed her to have worn yesterday.

"I know. But we're on a couch! Anyone could come out and—did you just bite me?" Liberty pulled back, stroking the tender spot just beneath the center of her chin. It took all of Steve's willpower not to look guilty. He might have. The little voice made him do it. She wanted to get up and hide and he didn't feel like letting her go, truth be told.

They were having a rare, quiet moment alone. It was a moment that he could bear. That was the biggest surprise of all. Usually she had him sweating to death and wishing to explode from the tension, but not this time. This was soft and slow; there was no urgency and desperation lacing his hunger.

He likened it to lazily sipping a sweet, ceaseless nectar. Or maybe a vanilla milkshake because Steve really liked those, and he really liked Liberty. "You moved and my teeth got in the way. I wasn't done." Steve fluttered his blonde lashes, surprised that sounded remotely eloquent and plausible. Liberty laughed genuinely at his creativity. Steve spoke honestly, and looked at her with enchanting blue eyes that did well to convince her.

"Well, you are now." grinned Liberty, unfolding one leg to touch the floor. Steve tightened his arm slightly. She wasn't getting away so easily. He was slightly enjoying his ability to detain her without even trying. It was kind of…erotic.

The juxtaposition of his power and personality was, anyways. When coupled with her softness and his strength the eroticism was more apparent. Steve gave a disapproving grunt. "Stay." he offered, the request coming out as a whispered invitation. His voice tapered out before she could hear the slight plea.

"But my clothes—"

"Captain's orders. Stay." Steve teased. Liberty flushed at his boyish smile and playful confidence. He locked his fingers against her lower back as she sat on his knees. Her one leg dangled against his, skipping across the carpet languidly. She sent her hands up his form, flattening wrinkles in his shirt while gingerly feeling for the startling amount of muscle protecting his kind spirit.

"I could be very mean." Liberty recognized, tracing a finger around Steve's somewhat obvious nipples. "I have a very simple demand, Mr. Rogers. If it is not met, I shall attack." Steve couldn't help but laugh. Liberty was perhaps the_ least_ threatening thing to ever make demands. He wouldn't be against following her into a secluded interrogation room, though. Practicing his battle strategies and brushing up on the modern way to coax information out of people were always things Fury approved of.

Natasha had told him more than once she'd slept with the enemy for information. He could practice with Liberty. _If only…_Steve mused. She wouldn't be adequate practice, though, because she wasn't evil. "It's simple, Mr. Rogers. I have two hands and _you _have two nipples. The choice is yours."

"I have a really big hand," Steve countered with a half-smirk, grabbing her thigh firmly. It was enough to prove a point, not to hurt. He took her partial jump and straightening spine as a small victory. The blush was a bonus he savored. "And I can—"

"Keep sexy acts off my couch." Tony invaded the conversation, planting his elbows into the couch as he sipped coffee from a ceramic mug. Steve frowned at him, leaning his head back to glare at Tony. "Or, you know, you could get ready for that _thing_ you have at seven thirty."

"Thing?" Liberty looked up at Tony, eyes tracing the column of Steve's throat before she met his brown eyes. "What are you doing?"

_I WILL KILL YOU_, Steve's eyes screamed. Tony heard about his pissy string-pulling adventure from JARVIS. He didn't know it was supposed to be a surprise on Liberty's behalf. Knowing malice when he saw it, Tony quickly recovered.

"Steve has an interview because of the pictures." Tony explained. Liberty gave a slight nod. That was understandable. Better him than her. She'd probably be pestered with family questions.

"Mmm. Should be fun for you." Liberty patted Steve's shoulder. "Clint and I are going to the park."

"At eight, right?" Tony squinted lightly, trying to recall the exact details. Liberty nodded.

"Yep."

"_Tony_!" Steve pursed his lips thinly. Tony giggled. It was always fun making Steve mad.

"I get it. You guys have busy schedules today. I'll leave you in peace." he gave Steve a mock bow before sipping his coffee and retreating.

"The nerve of—ow!" Steve jumped, snapping his head forward to look at Liberty. She blinked innocently, returning to a full sitting position on his lap. "Did you just bite me?" asked Steve.

"Yep. I'm gonna kiss it and make it better. Then you're going to let me get up." Liberty said casually, though it sounded more like a light-hearted order. Steve felt the blush lick up his neck and cheeks as she kissed the pulsing flesh. His heart trembled, stomach knotting warmly at the sensitive affection. _Further negotiations required! Speak man, speak! Let her win again! _the voice begged. He tried to speak, but it came out in an incoherent jumble.

She slipped away. Steve threw his head back into the couch, growling. Damn his luck!

* * *

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Confidence comes in knowing your surroundings and being able to read people." replied Clint simply. She frowned, checking to make sure he was still there. Liberty wasn't used to seeing Clint in his surveillance gear, and felt like he was a stranger sitting beside her. He was used to staying up and away from people; being a publically known Avenger made that hard. Clint compensated by being aloof and hidden when in the public eye.

He was used to the blonde wig and golden dust on his brows, but Liberty wasn't. She was hesitant and constantly looked over to make sure he hadn't been replaced by someone else. They'd been sitting on a park bench for nearly an hour. Liberty watched seven old people feed pigeons, one dog catch a Frisbee, three children play tag, and two couples double-date beneath nearby trees. Sitting like a statue was _beyond_ boring.

"Clint, can't we go do something else? I'm _bored_!"

"Paying attention is important." he defended.

"How long do we have to sit here?"

"Give me one more hour." persuaded Clint. The day wasn't a total loss. She'd been able to recite citizens and their activities when he sprung a surprise quiz on her. Awareness and quick memory was vital to someone connected to SHIELD. Liberty huffed, looking at the park through the sunglasses Clint insisted on.

Part of people watching was blending in, apparently. She thought putting on sunglasses made her stand out, as it wasn't particularly bright outside, but Clint wouldn't let her go without them. His lesson in patience and observation would be ruined if people could easily recognize her. The unmistakable cherry curls had been taken care of by Katie's products, and now Clint had hidden her blue eyes. Liberty was virtually like every other redhead now.

"Can I at least get a newspaper or something?" a little kiosk was strategically stationed in the park. It had snacks, bags of bread to feed the pigeons, and plenty of reading material.

"Sure." Clint snuggled into the bench again. This was as much for Steve as it was Liberty and Dr. Abbot. He was doing his part to help the psychologist, and his teammate. Steve asked him to buy time until the show wrapped up. The super soldier was taking the old-fashioned route with roses and a bear as presents.

Clint's job was to make sure Liberty stayed until Steve arrived. Buying a newspaper would be the perfect way to ensure that. Satisfied that she'd gotten a paper to break the monotony, Liberty returned dutifully to Clint's side. The smell of ink and paper drifted up to her nose. **Caroline Ramsey Calls Granddaughter 'Whore', Gets Backlash**, read the headline.

"She called me a _whore_?!" Liberty squeaked in disbelief. That was a loaded word, and it hurt. Clint winced, hearing the tell-tale whine and wobble in her voice. _Please don't cry here. Not in the middle of the park. Please_, prayed Clint. "I didn't do anything! I…I only did what Katie asked!"

"Look, look." Clint pointed to the page quickly. Some people were watching now. He couldn't let this get shot to hell – what would he say to Steve? "People came to _your _defense! See? 'Gets backlash'." he unfolded the paper, for her. Reading the article might calm her down, right?

"But…but I'm _not _a whore, Clint." Liberty didn't want to read the article. She was too hurt. It was wrong and embarrassing to be labeled something she wasn't. Liberty felt like an inappropriately punished child; it wasn't too far from what she felt growing up in Caroline's home. Why would this be any different?

Why should she care?

Part of her realized that she didn't, and that she wouldn't, but there was another piece of her aching in pain. It was the childish part of her that wanted to be loved like she barely remembered. Like her parents had before they passed away. That part was in ribbons over the attack. Her blue eyes began to bead with tears and she was unable to stop it.

"She never loved me!" spat Liberty, throwing the paper down. It was evident that Caroline never would, too. This scathing remark was just another punishment. One Liberty didn't reserve. Liberty decided to respond with rage, and thought it was fit because Caroline had no reason to attack _her _when Katie was responsible.

Well…she and Steve were responsible, but that wasn't the point!

"I am not a whore! I'm a virgin, which is more than I can say for her skank-ass _golden _granddaughter." snapped Liberty. Clint knew a raging inferno when he saw one, and took her hand. Most people blew off steam through being mobile. A walk should exercise her venom before Steve arrived. They left the newspaper on the ground and circled the local pond several times.

Liberty wasn't even aware that she was ranting, but Clint got an earful. He received personal examples of an already blatantly biased upbringing, recounts of how Liberty often stumbled upon Katie's sexual experimentations under Caroline's roof, and the disappointing origin of Caroline's unfairness: Liberty's mother. He gave her vague advice he'd learned throughout life, hoping to soothe the rage instead of inflate it. She was grateful for Clint. Talking to Tony, Bruce, or Steve would seem weird.

Tony was just…Tony. Liberty wanted someone a bit more reserved. Bruce was nice, but saw things constantly from a doctor's standpoint, which she couldn't always appreciate. It was like advising instead of _listening_. And Steve…that would just be weird!

They were dating. Kind of. Why would he want to know about things like that? Didn't men jump and run when problems like this reared their head? Liberty didn't want to scare him, and imagined adjusting to modern society was hard enough without adding to the weight.

"Thanks, Clint. Sorry about the rant." Liberty blushed, laughing as the fiery weight was torn from her chest. She really needed regulate herself somehow. Being able to express herself was still a new, forgotten freedom. Sometimes Liberty didn't know how to turn off the opinions and emotions.

"Not a problem. SHIELD's taught me to handle everything. Well…most everything. Nothing can prepare you for Natasha going on the rag mid-mission, trust me."

"Guess I pale in comparison." giggled Liberty. She imagined Natasha was something of a Raging Russian during her time of the month – only twenty times more lethal, sixty percent meaner, and ninety percent rougher. Liberty would willingly hide underground until _that_ was over. Hell, Chuck Norris would probably hide!

"You do." Clint nodded. He raised his hand to her shoulder now, no longer needing a death grip on her wrist. She was back to her typical quiet self. His phone rang, interrupting their otherwise quiet walk back to the bench. Liberty was surprised to find Steve standing beside the remains of her newspaper and a group of pigeons pecking away at breadcrumbs.

Steve had one good rose to show for the bundle he bought. Trying to walk through Manhattan with flowers wasn't easy. Body traffic damaged most of the flowers, but his massive frame was also to blame. Hailing a cab involved stooping down, climbing in at odd angles, and drawing his arms into his chest just to fit inside. A good portion of the roses had broken stems and were missing petals.

The only good rose came from the center of the bouquet. He clutched it determinedly after the eyesores had been weeded out. Instead of throwing the pitiable flowers away like garbage, Steve broke them up and sprinkled the petals on the ground. Birds liked to collect all kinds of materials for their nests, he remembered. Reading had been one of his pastimes in 1945.

There was plenty of time for reading with no pressing dates to keep. No lady to impress. His backup plan was the bear, and Steve hoped his voice didn't sound weird. The florist recommended a recordable greeting card, but Steve didn't want a pre-printed sentiment to convey his emotions. He wanted to say it in his own way.

'His own way' included stammering and a cracking voice. He could hear the surprise and nervousness in his voice. Steve frowned, and pressed the "Erase" button multiple times. The bear was mocking him and his inability to speak correctly. Or hold a pitch long enough to record three little words.

He was unsatisfied with every attempt. The bear ended up having no message. It was merely a more expensive version of a plush white bear. Approaching an empty park bench was frightening. Clint rarely led him astray, and wouldn't do so purposefully like Tony.

A million horrible scenarios ran through his mind: someone ambushed Clint, Liberty had been kidnapped, Caroline sprung her plan — all the fears were laid to rest moments later. Clint and Liberty were fast approaching as Steve staved off incoming breadcrumbs. Two kids decided to have a breadcrumb war instead of feeding the pigeons. Snapping the free arm of his jacket spilled hidden breadcrumbs onto the neglected newspaper. Pigeons gathered greedily in an instant, scratching and pecking at the paper.

_Hope I don't have breadcrumbs on me_, Steve absently brushed a hand down his flannel shirt and brown jacket. The cooing pigeons and rustling feathers took away from the romantic moment he hoped to set. He hadn't expected to panic, be peppered by breadcrumbs, swarmed by pigeons, or see Liberty with puffy red eyes. His moment was steadily unraveling. Out of respect for Clint, Steve didn't speak over the phone call.

Not knowing why she was red-eyed was perhaps the worst part of his attempt. "Thanks, _mom_. I'll talk to you later." Clint looked to Captain, raising his eyebrows. Fury wasn't happy about "mom' as a codename, but it was easier to say in public. Steve frowned, getting the feeling that the phone call wasn't good.

"Was that really your mom?" Liberty inquired. She hadn't met any of the superheroes' parents, she was sure. Clint shook his head.

"Where are we going?" Steve asked the more important question. Fury only ever called when they had something to investigate.

"To the museum. Says there's something we have to see. Tony's meeting us up there."

_Have to get rid of this stuff_! Steve had a momentary moment of panic. The museum probably wouldn't allow flowers and bears. His purchases might be considered a contaminant or possible hazard. He wouldn't blame them if they dissected the bear; attacks on the US had become far craftier and deadlier than what he was used to. Relieving himself of the bear and rose would allow Steve to think up a new plan.

The museum was _packed _with gifts. He'd get an idea there! Clint seemed to sense his distress, and casually guided Liberty away under the guise of hailing a cab. It may take some time; catching a cab just after nine wasn't easy. Steve's ears caught the cry of a child, and he looked up.

A little girl had fallen to one knee while trying to catch up with her stroller-pushing mother. She was young, maybe five, and was in great distress at the blood pooling in the scrape. Cuts and blood were terrifying at that age. "You look like you could use this." Steve crouched, holding out the bear tentatively. He wouldn't be chased away like most people, as he was easy to recognize, and the girl quieted almost instantly as her fingers clutched the short, soft fur.

Steve helped her up, nodding at the mother's grateful praise. Her baby was also crying. He imagined she was rushing, and had accidentally caused the incident. The soldier gave her the rose for her trouble, jogging to catch up with Clint and Liberty. Liberty had just disappeared into the cab, her short stature creating an easy entrance that Steve envied.

She was squished between Clint and Steve. _At least I won't be killed if we crash_, Liberty mused. Two muscular Avengers were more than enough padding and protection. "'Ey," the cabby looked into his review mirror en route to the museum, "can I say somethin' about your grandma with total honesty, kid?"

"You know who I am? But I'm wearing sunglasses!"

"You got a noticeable face, sweetheart." laughed the cabbie. "An' sunglasses don't make you invisible in New York."

"True. But yeah, say what you want." shrugged Liberty. Caroline obviously didn't care what was said. Why should she?

"You're grandma's a bitch." snorted the cabby. Steve chuckled.

"Good to see you agree with me, big guy! 'Ey, heard your speech on that talk show! You really reamed her!"

"You fought with my grandma?!" Liberty tried to turn and face Steve directly, but couldn't. Years of wielding the bow and arrow left Clint's arms large and hard to move. Steve, alone, made it hard to turn. He was like a gargantuan rectangle stuck in a tiny, moving square. The cabby chuckled, amused by Steve's pink cheeks.

The taxi stopped, saving Clint another five minutes of Steve stumbling, mumbling, and stuttering. "I'm not _mad_," Liberty wrinkled her nose while giving a small laugh. "Just surprised, that's all!

"You're surprised. Fantastic. Stay surprised. We're supposed to see something interesting here." Clint herded them into the museum. He'd seriously put an arrow in someone's eye if he had to hear Tony complain about waiting. After Liberty's breakdown and Steve's lame ability to explain himself, anything from Tony was unwelcome. They navigated past two school field trips and through four exhibits before finding Tony. The billionaire was at the back of a packed room, and very unhappy.

"Hammer." Clint and Steve muttered in unison. Few things could sour Tony like that, and one of them was Justin Hammer.

"Isn't he supposed to be in jail or something? I heard he housed a criminal. Or hired one. The guy ended up being a total psycho." recalled Liberty. That had been _all over_ the news. It was about the same time reports of rogue Iron Man-like suits came pouring in.

"He's _supposed _to be under house arrest. But, because he runs a popular company, there are pre-approved situations for which he can leave the house." Tony frowned. Pepper saved him from the law countless times. And Tony liked being a smartass – the best way to irritate the law was to use laws against them.

"What's he out and about for?"

"Try to ignore the hot air and _look around_, Captain."

"I want to see!" Liberty couldn't see a thing. There were too many people. Steve, thinking nothing of it, picked her up and put her on his shoulders. They could both see the impressive, towering structure at the front of the room. "It looks like—"

"—a big wineglass." Steve finished. It was protected by meager velvet ropes. Justin Hammer yammered into a headset about the creation and specifics of the monstrous glass. Museum curators applauded the science behind the record-breaking wine glass. Hammer was encircled by museum staff, photographers, reporters, and an officiator.

"Why is this in the museum, exactly?" Clint wondered. What the hell was so special about a wineglass? Aside from the fact that it was huge and several Thors could swim in it without issue or contact?

"It's was made by _crystal _reproduced on a mass scale using laser technology." Tony summed up. Certain pieces of Hammer's whining had actually taken root in his ear. Crystal was a very important word. Fury was right in sending them out to see this. It was far too convenient and suspicious for Hammer to produce a massive crystal creation after they found his company logo on Narcozi's dog tags.

His timing was unsettling, too. Tony found it odd that Hammer debuted this right after Steve and Liberty's photo shoot success. "This is going in their Crystallography and Natural Earth Formations exhibit. We'll get a chance to see it later."

"Let's meet up in about an hour. Maybe an hour and a half. The crowd should be gone by then." Clint estimated. Appearances by Hammer tended to disperse faster than appearances by Tony. People would eventually tire of looking at an oversized version of something they could buy in a store.

"I'll take Liberty." Steve said. Leaving a wealthy young girl in a crowded place was never a good idea. He wasn't content with the notion, anyways. Caroline had yet to do anything, and that made him nervous. She was planning something; he could feel it in his bones.

He could almost taste the impending disaster. The Manhattan air was beginning to thicken with something heavy and electric. Steve knew to trust this feeling. It came to him in times of war when danger hemmed him; when it closed in hard and fast and relentlessly. He'd felt it jumping out of Howard's plane, and when he liberated the missing men from HYDRA's base.

It was a feeling that compacted his guts and drenched them in lead. He felt himself steeling as they browsed the opposite end of the museum. Something was going to happen. The presence of Soldier Steve confirmed that. Steve felt charged with energy; his blue eyes drank everything in while his brain filed it away.

Steve was vaguely familiar with the museum. He hadn't gotten enough time off to visit it properly, but Tony made the effort to walk through it with him. That was mostly so Tony could speak legal-ese and help Steve reclaim improperly donated materials he used to own. "You might like this." Steve led Liberty to a section reserved for the 1700s, 1800s, and 1900s.

"This has nothing to do with you being a 1900s baby, right?" Liberty joked. Steve merely grinned. Important inventions were trapped behind spheres or squares of glass. They sat on pedestals alongside busts of their creators and snippets of history. His eyes traced the Morse code machine, mildly surprised that this helped shape the telegraphs common in his time.

_Make Morse Code! 25 cents!_

It was clearly an attraction for children, but Steve found himself approaching the device. "Were any of these around in your time?"

"Yeah. We relied more on the telegraph, though."

"Did you guys ever use Morse code?"

"We learned it. Morse code didn't need a machine to be used. Tapping became a popular alternative."

"So you can actually make a message on this thing?"

"Yes." Steve laughed, popping a quarter in the slot. The machine hummed, waiting to be used. A slip of paper inched out of the slot as he tapped away expertly. Liberty watched it with interest. Dots and dashes met her eye.

Steve may be slow on the computer, but Morse code came easily to him. He carefully plucked the paper, handing it to Liberty. "Don't turn it over for the translation. Decode it." Steve instructed as he gestured to the laminated guide beside the machine.

"You're no fun." Liberty teased, resisting the temptation to turn it over. She blamed the sign. It said a translation was readily available on the opposite side.

.. .-..-...-. -.-..-!

Her brows furrowed in utter concentration. Steve couldn't help but smile at her serious face. Liberty's lips drew together, puckering slightly at the edges as her finger trailed along the symbols. Pale red lips whispered unspoken words, something Steve found sexy because the letters contorted her mouth. He tensed reflexively as her finger dropped and she stepped away from the guide.

She knew. Liberty's wide blue eyes pinned him, begging for confirmation. Steve shyly gestured to the paper in her hand. His heart stopped for the one second it took her to turn it over; he held his breath for the quiet seconds that followed.

_I love you!_

"Do you mean it, Steve? Really?" she snuggled eagerly into his cautious arms. Her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity and hope. Steve found her adorably childish.

"Of course I do." he wrapped his long arms around her. She'd relaxed his fear-induced stiffness; Steve was now delightfully functional.

"Was it…was it because of how we kissed? I'm—I'm not saying that's your motivator, but some people—"

"I get it. But, no. When I say I'm not like modern guys, I mean it. I spent seventy years in ice, Liberty. In my day relationships weren't about immediate gratification or sex.

"A relationship was about the people…about the search for the right partner." Steve lifted her into his arms, wanting her to see his eyes. He liked to speak seriously and honestly with people. That meant maintaining eye contact.

"Great!" she gave a hefty exhale he could feel and see. "Guys think differently than girls. I didn't know how you'd take the kiss we had. And…and I don't know what to think, myself. I mean, _I _enjoyed it, and _I _liked it, but some people think I'm a whore." _Don't you do it! Don't cry in front of Steve_!

"You read the paper, didn't you?"

"Yes." swallowed Liberty weakly.

"That's exactly what I _didn't _want you to see." Steve frowned against her temple, placing a reassuring kiss there. He knew something like that could tear down her confidence. It looked like it was, too. Steve imagined Caroline calling her a whore hurt like his multiple army rejections did. That feeling of being inadequate, of being turned down and gazed upon by peers in the aftermath of it all lingered and festered unwholesomely.

"I'm sorry." Steve mumbled against her temple, combing his fingers through her hair. He was sorry about her pain, and sorry that he couldn't protect her from it. One man couldn't fight an army of technology. Steve couldn't win when he was unprepared for the battle. "If it's any consolation—he wiped a lone tear from her cheek—I don't think you're a whore."

"Thanks, Steve." she kissed his cheek. His strong arms never failed to make her feel safe and loved. Steve kissed Liberty's hand before setting her on the floor. He settled for twining his fingers around hers. A phone call interrupted their trip through the 1800s.

He hung up, chuckling at Clint.

"What's going on?"

"People caught wind of Tony being here and left Hammer's wineglass." Steve smiled. "Clint says he's really fuming."

"Fun." Liberty replied dryly. "Let's go visit, shall we?"

* * *

"Liberty Ramsey, what a pleasure!" Justin forwardly grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss on it. Steve resisted the urge to let Hammer kiss his fist. The pang of rage and possessiveness was quickly dulled by Liberty's contained displeasure at the act.

"Hello, Justin. How are you?" Steve praised Liberty for her conversational tone. She was a good actress, he thought. Liberty appeared invested in his presence, but not overly so.

"Incredibly lonely. I haven't seen you in, what, three years or so?"

"About the time Caroline quit organizing our play dates, yes. I moved out as soon as possible."

"That's sad to here. I rather enjoyed your company."

"Mmm…well, I had a different path in mind." Liberty smiled, eyes crinkling briefly.

"It's the Callari in you, or so I've heard. You were always rather _feisty_." Hammer loved a challenge, and was excited at the prospect of courting the long-unresponsive woman. She always weaseled away from him. Liberty was something he'd yet to catch. Steve's shoulders pinched together as they rose. He didn't like the way Hammer said that. Or the way he looked at her.

"And you were always inventive. Constantly working, as I recall. What's this for?" Liberty quickly steered the conversation elsewhere. Something was straining against the emotional barriers and chain of broken memories. There was a reason she didn't like Justin's tone and the way he looked at her. Was it related to one of Caroline's punishments?

Hammer shrugged. "I got the idea while drinking wine. Being under house arrest _alone_ is rather boring. My staff isn't permitted to drink during work hours, and I don't think any of them are qualified to truly enjoy a fine Grenache."

"I see. Well, I'm sorry you feel that way." there was really little to say to that. Nothing she could say politely, anyways. Hammer was annoyingly snooty. His attitude was quickly exacerbating her.

"You could change that." Justin flashed a closed-lipped grin.

"Excuse me?" Steve cut in. Liberty was clearly ignoring his flattery, so why was he still talking? Did he think his money made him entitled? Hammer wasn't the only one with money, truth be told. During the war Steve bought up a lot of war bonds since he was paid highly for Captain America gigs.

Those bonds matured over time through wise investing, even while he was stuck in ice. Steve was Hammer's financial equal, if not his superior. Liberty wasn't a woman who could be wooed with Grenache, anyways. _It's like Howard and fondue all over again! _Steve frowned. "By attending a party. My party. I'm holding one to celebrate breaking the world record." Justin informed.

"They'll let you do that?" Steve interrogated suspiciously.

"Yes, Mr. Rogers. Feel free to attend." invited Justin rather briskly. He wasn't going to tolerate some genetically enhanced _thing _speaking to him in such a way. Not when Rogers had been a scrawny nothing before the injections. Oh yes, Justin knew _all _about that.

Stark wasn't the only one with the power to pull strings. He produced an invitation from his breast pocket. "I had a feeling you'd be hanging around the Avengers." Justin stroked his nose absently with a finger. "Or on one." he added with a chuckle. She socked Hammer before Steve could retort or do it himself.

Justin licked blood from his lower lip, chuckling dryly. "I hope you're going to kiss it better. Caroline doesn't like it when you act out. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you." Hammer spoke coolly, raking his eyes over Liberty as if to taunt her with her past. Steve grabbed him by the collar of his suit.

"Shut up! One more word and you won't be speaking at that party!" Steve warned. The parole officer was quick to intervene. It would look bad on him if Hammer got hurt during an outing. Always a man who respected the law, Steve begrudgingly released Hammer. Justin ignored the fact that he was basically thrown into his parole officer.

"You'll soon find out that I have a very commanding presence, Mr. Rogers. I can say little and do plenty. Especially to you." Justin readjusted his tie.

"What could _you_ physically do to _me_?" Steve snorted. The serum made him much stronger than the average man. Someone like Hammer, who was leanly muscled, wasn't intimidating.

"I didn't say I'd do anything _physical_ to you, Mr. Rogers."

"Then what—?"

"I've grown tired, Mr. Hoges. Escort me back home, if you please." Justin turned up his nose at Steve, enjoying the confusion tightening his face. Steve knew he meant something by that smug statement. If Hammer didn't have the power to physically hurt him, how else _could _he? It was puzzling and alarming.

"WAIT!"

"See you at the party, Mr. Rogers."


	13. Addressing Issues

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to pizzagirl, Drachegirl14, miller330, and starkassemblyrequired for reviewing. Almost at my target goal for reviews! Yay!

To starkassemblyrequired: I've thought about making a Tony story, actually. Just need to form a character that doesn't too closely resemble my other OC's appearances or talents, which makes it a bit hard. I also need to figure out what that OC would do to interact with Tony. If and when I make a Stark story, it will likely be under _Iron Man 2_.

These next two chapters are probably going to be my favorite just because it has lots of awkward/lusty/loving/emotional Steve/Liberty :D. I didn't want to do it, I _really _didn't, but there's a _slight _spoiler at the end of the chapter.

* * *

Twelve: Addressing Issues

_Wear this today._

—_Tony_

Liberty frowned at the aquamarine dress. She wiped bits of sleep crust from her eyes and further inspected the dress. It had a twisty design in the neckline and a rib-knit fabric made of elastic material. The color was gorgeous, and the fabric had a subtle shine that was nearly undetectable. If not for the length, Liberty would love it to pieces.

The dress was colorful without being tacky. Elegant, but not showy. She showered, cleaned her face, and dried her hair before putting it on. Liberty loved the snug fit; being petite and having a small chest made finding clothes hard. Her adoration dulled when she found a good portion of her legs reflected in the mirror.

_This is much too short_, Liberty frowned. It stopped an inch and a half past her buttocks. She couldn't go anywhere in this! People really _would _call her a whore! "Tony…" Liberty padded down the hall in bare feet, "we need to talk!"

"He's sleeping." yawned Pepper into her coffee cup. Steve was at the stove dutifully chasing scrambled eggs around the pan.

"Then how did I get this?" Liberty threw out her arms questioningly. Steve half-turned from the stove to look. He cursed and did a quick little jig to avoid the fallen spatula. It was hot enough to jolt the nerves of his toes, but didn't burn his sock.

"Oh, that." Pepper grinned. She knew Steve's sock was fine. His jaw didn't seem to be. "Tony figured you'd want something to…to feel _nice_ after what happened yesterday. Clothes do wonders for a woman's confidence and mood!" the redhead toasted Liberty's form-fitting dress.

"Please tell me I'm not going anywhere in this." Liberty put her hands on her hips, unknowingly drawing the dress up slightly. Steve whipped towards the stove again, searching hurriedly for another spatula before the eggs browned. The little voice was having a field day. It pined for her, praised Tony for the dress choice, and begged Steve to do something. Impulses strengthened and propriety fences opened up since Liberty said she loved him back.

Steve received the confirmation he needed. The 'love before lust' issue was totally resolved. Virtually all love-related stress was gone from him. Except the part that _wanted _her. It was the old-fashioned part that was ready for love-making, marriage, a white picket fence, and kids.

He didn't think that was asking for much. It didn't feel too soon for Steve, either. Spending time with Liberty taught him about her. She didn't run around trying to scrounge for affection like the other modern day women; Liberty didn't bounce from man to man. Her affection – unlike her generosity – was given sparingly, but with purpose.

She was a surprisingly good, old-fashioned find in the modern time. Despite what happened to her, Steve thought she was rather innocent. Liberty possessed a charm and personality that melted his heart. Steve knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would be Mrs. Steven Rogers. Eventually…he was still trying to plan that part out.

Planning – _thinking_ – was impossible with that dress on her, though. She was visible out of the corner of his eye. Liberty nearly blinded him, threatening to consume his vision. Steve felt nearly hypnotized. The dress was a beautiful shade of blue, fit like a glove, and accented the hips he wanted to grab.

The little voice was begging for more. It was nearly screaming at him. He'd be an idiot to bypass a chance to see if that stretchy-looking material had any elasticity. If it popped back and shot halfway up her torso, well, he could blame it on his strength. He bit his lip, banishing the idea as he piled eggs onto a plate for Pepper and himself before pulling another down for Liberty.

"You are, but we won't be out long. And don't give me any objections or stuttering, young lady! You're young, work it!"

"I don't _want _to work it. Any _work _I'll be doing is around _here _because Fury thought it'd be funny for Tony to use me as a maid!" Liberty curled her fingers into fists, poking her knuckles into her hips. Pepper giggled.

"You're doing well," Pepper acknowledged. "But, trust me. Every girl needs to let her hair down once in a while. LBDs are popular for a reason. Since you don't have one, well…this is it!"

"LBD…little black dress, right?" Steve double-checked. He turned off the stove since there were no more eggs to cook. Stark Tower was officially out of eggs and bacon, the staples Steve liked to make. They had sausage, but Thor complained of it being too small for breakfast.

"Natasha taught you well. But it's little _blue _dress in this case." teased Pepper, munching on a forkful of eggs. Steve blushed lightly.

"Where are we going? You said we're going out." Liberty refused to let Pepper slip away. Good-natured poking at Steve didn't give her the right to ignore an important question.

"I need to get a few things at the store, and you need a party-appropriate dress." replied Pepper.

"Mmm…" Liberty made a disappointed noise in the back of her throat.

"Don't 'Mmm' me, Liberty! You're going!"

"But I don't _like _Hammer."

"Neither does Tony." Pepper assured. "You can suffer together."

"_We _can." Steve corrected Pepper. He wouldn't stand idly by while that slimy businessman threw a party. Not when he could float around among the guests and touch them. Pepper smiled into her coffee cup. Steve was obviously jealous, and maybe a bit confused as to how to deal with Hammer in the politically correct way.

Being an Avenger meant upholding certain standards. It meant not acting out and bowing to primal urges that could result in murder and an arrest. "Yes!" cheered Liberty. "We can stop each other from killing Hammer." she joked, kissing Steve on the cheek before getting up to pour some tea. He blushed and tucked himself into the plate of food that had suddenly become very interesting.

Pepper gave him an impish smile. Steve snorted. "Mmm…I probably shouldn't say that." Liberty added thoughtfully after returning with a cup of sweet tea, "JARVIS probably records everything. I don't want to get arrested." _And that is why I love you_, Steve let the bite of egg slide off his fork and into his mouth. She was playful and thoughtful. Compassionate, but controlled.

"You're fine, and that's exactly what people will say when we go shopping today!" Pepper clapped. "You'll be turning heads and snapping necks so fast Tony will get hit with a mountain of bills." she giggled at her joke. Pepper felt it was rather creative. And, really, she was just trying to make Liberty feel better. Bombarding her with awkward compliments and positive feelings should negate or overpower any negativity caused by Caroline.

Dr. Abbot made a personal call after news of Caroline's comment reached her. She instructed them to boost her mood in any way possible. If Liberty crashed after making such beneficial leaps and bounds, well…it wouldn't be pretty. She would withdraw into cynicism, guilt, and maybe try something self-harming. Caroline's unflinching hatred had far more power than the base of friendship and goodwill they were showing to her.

Caroline had better leverage, as Liberty wasn't used to kindness.

"I can tell you married Tony." mused Steve. Pepper clucked her tongue and waved him off.

"Glad I wasn't the only one who thought that was cheesy." hummed Liberty happily. She beamed brightly at Pepper, batting her eyes to diminish the older woman's mock glare.

"Cute, now finish up. We need to get eggs and bacon before Thor wakes up."

* * *

"Did you like the dress she's wearing?" Tony grinned widely at Steve. Steve crinkled the water bottle in his fist. Stark knew of his predicament. Tony Stark – of all the men in the world – knew what it was like to want a woman and not be able to have her. Well, maybe Tony wasn't used to refusal, but he knew bad timing and the necessity of waiting.

"Yes." mumbled Steve after a few minutes of Tony staring happily at him; he tossed the water bottle in the training room trashcan. Tony chuckled, manually shutting off a modified glove from his suit. Stark couldn't move about his day or fatherly duties with the whole suit on, so he trained and tweaked it in pieces. Steve wasn't sure what was different about the glove, but noticed a circle of pale white light disappear when Tony lowered his arm.

"You're going to love what I'm having her wear next, then." winked Tony. He flexed slightly sweaty fingers and motioned for Steve to toss him a towel. The super soldier complied, flicking his eyes suspiciously and curiously to Tony.

"Why the change?"

"It's for you, Cap!" Tony laughed. He clapped Steve on the back with a dry hand. "I know you liked red, white, and blue, but no man likes blue balls. Trust me!"

"That's not funny, Tony. It's called being _respectful_." Steve frowned. Unlike Tony, his life wasn't about immediate gratification. Tony held his hands up, creating a barrier between himself and Steve's glare.

"I'm just trying to help, Cap. And I talked to Natasha, of course. She said it would _kind of _prepare her for what's going to happen next."

"I live in a tower of insanity." Steve grumbled. "You're all out to get me, I swear." Tony cackled, pressing his lips together to hide it. Sounding _too _amused would rub Steve the wrong way. But it was funny, and he was close. They _were_ out to get him – they wanted to get Steve a normal life.

One capable of erasing the occasional nightmares about Bucky. One with "the right partner". Tony considered himself Steve's friend as much as he did his teammate, even if they weren't the best of pals. That made him want to help the super soldier. Dr. Abbot's suggestion of using her patients as their own cure was just another reason to help.

"We may be out to get you, but we've always got your back." promised Tony.

"Thanks…I guess." Steve unwound the bandages around his hands before balling them up and putting them in the trash.

"Don't mention it. Everyone has to thank Tony Stark at least once in their lifetime!"

"Really, Tony?"

"I'm just—"

"Pardon the interruption, sir, but you've requested that I display any footage concerning a member of the household. I have some. It was logged on the internet twenty minutes ago."

"Just tell me it's not Pep, JARVIS." Tony could reprimand him for being twenty minutes late _later_. He had to know Pepper was fine first. Being Iron Man made her a worthy target, and he couldn't stomach the thought of his children growing up without a mother. Growing up without _his_ mother had been hell enough.

"She's in the foray, sir, but wasn't injured."

"Play the footage."

"I'll do my best, sir. It was recorded on a cellphone. The quality leaves something to be desired." JARVIS regretted to say as he digitally projected the find across the east wall.

_"Do you have the – here, give me that back. No, not that one. _That _one_." Tony heard Pepper say. He could hear the cellphone owner asking for an autograph. For a good smile from either one of them. They were stumbling along, arms loaded down with bags, trying to make it back to Happy who was parked down the aisle.

_"Well, if you didn't buy twenty pounds of meat we wouldn't have this problem!"_

_"Thor needs meat! He's a growing Asgardian!"_

_"So much for _just _eggs and bacon."_ laughed Liberty.

_"There she is! She hit Hammer!"_

The cellphone whipped around to catch three young women stomping towards Pepper and Liberty. Pepper immediately deposited her bags, digging in her purse for her cellphone.

_"You'd hit him, too, if you heard the things he was saying! Or would you stand by while he demeaned Captain America? I'm not sorry! What would you have done?"_

They halted, surprised by the information. For a millisecond nothing happened. Then, without warning, the leading girl threw her arm out and clapped Liberty on the cheek. The hit landed hard enough to echo; Steve and Tony watched Liberty's head snap to the side.

_"I'd hit you back!" _yelled the closest girl.

_"And now you have. Get out of my way!"_

_"You must not hit hard enough,"_ snorted the girl to the right, _"she's not even crying."_

Liberty gave a low, dry laugh. It was full of rage and disappointment. Steve could pick up on a hint of amusement when he quit trembling long enough to hear properly. That noise chilled his blood.

_"You're not the first person to hit me. You'd have to hit me a lot harder than that to get just a_ whimper_."_

_"No more, Liberty! No more. Get in the limo."_ Pepper snatched up the bags, shouting something threatening and related to unprompted assault. Happy throwing the door open and rushing around to tuck Liberty inside made quite the impression. The three girls skittered off seconds before the video stopped.

"That's all, sir."

"Liberty…" Steve murmured glumly, feeling like a kicked puppy. He hadn't been there, and those crazy girls assaulted her! Most of his guilt came from her unwillingness to fight back; she'd been defenseless at their hands! It wasn't right, but he understood. She'd clearly refrained for the sake of protecting her image and trying to stay out of the headlines.

"How much do you wanna bet Dr. Abbot's already seen this?" queried Tony as the views continued to climb on the video. Steve was horrified that people actually wanted to _watch _things like this. He supposed the title 'Evening the Score with the Ramsey Whore' attracted plenty of attention. His stomach soured; Steve swallowed the bad taste as belligerent fire ascended his organs and veins. What right did this person have to call her a whore?!

"Tony," Steve's voice came out in a pointed hiss. "I want—" his jaws were locked tightly, nearly cutting off the ability to speak.

"Revenge? Answers? I bet. I'll do you on better, Capsicle. JARVIS, find me the IP address this username's related to, if you would."

"Yes sir." the video disappeared. Waiting was a pain. Steve felt his body wind tight in anticipation. Someone needed to pay, or at least give him answers. This type of injustice couldn't go unanswered, not for the man who'd been taught to defend the defenseless.

"I have it, sir. And some extra information that might make up for a late internet scan, as I know you'll want to talk about that."

"You're smart, JARVIS."

"You programmed me, sir."

"What did you find?" Steve shushed Tony. He would make an AI to stroke his ego, wouldn't he?

"The account and computer belong to Sherry Grigio." answered JARVIS. Steve was lost. He didn't know who that was! Tony stroked his beard thoughtfully, pinching at the hairs as he raked his brain.

"Grigio…like, of the Grigio family? The pinot grigio family?"

"Indeed, sir."

"Isn't that a drink?" Steve inquired. It sounded like something Tony would keep in his bar. He'd heard it before, probably, in one of the fancy restaurants Tony liked to treat the team to.

"Yep. This kid's from old money, Cap. What's the extra news, JARVIS?"

"She was in Katie Ramsey's graduating class at the Manhattan Preparatory School." JARVIS pulled up an old photo displaying girls and boys dressed in rich red, dark brown, and black. He cropped the photo to narrow in on Katie and Sherry. That was easy to do, as they stood side by side.

"So Liberty recognized that girl? Did she not fight back because of that?" Steve wondered.

"I can't answer that, Mr. Rogers. But, I can tell you Ms. Callari graduated the following year from Manhattan Preparatory School." the photo of Katie's graduating class dissolved. Liberty's class photo took its place, showing another sea of red, brown, and black. She was all wild red curls, and stood at the front of the photo because of her height. Her smile was small, reserved. Liberty's hands were behind her back, like every other student in the photo.

And yet, he couldn't explain the speck of white between her body and the young boy standing beside her. Unless…unless she was holding his hand? Steve felt his stomach plummet. _Of course there were people before you_, his brain defended, _you spent seventy years in ice! She didn't even know you!_

"JARVIS, who's that boy?" Steve pointed to the projected face. He forgot JARVIS couldn't technically "see". The AI zeroed in on the pale face framed by wild sandy brown hair.

"Dallas "Dally" Narcozi, sir. His family made their fortune by marketing several alternative treatments for narcolepsy."

"_NARCOZI_?!" Steve bellowed incredulously. He wheeled back, literally surprised by the information. His head was spinning. All Steve could think about was Fury throwing the dog tag on the lab table. Surely the boy Liberty looked to trust – maybe even _like _– couldn't have tried to break into her apartment, right?

"Did he have army training?" Steve blurted out, demanding an answer even though he asked a question. Fury mentioned the assailant was a SHIELD reject. SHIELD rarely picked up people without something to contribute. Steve doubted that failing SHIELD psych evals would show up, but imagined the man had to start somewhere. His bet was on the army, as no man could move with such speed and power without proper discipline and thorough training.

"Dallas, sir? No. But his brother, yes."

"His _brother_?"

"Yes sir. Regina and Nathanial Narcozi raised a set of identical twins. They were named Dallas Bryce Narcozi and Darren James Narcozi." JARVIS posted a picture of two young boys. Steve couldn't physically pick them apart. Both sets of brown eyes looked like the ones he'd seen in Liberty's apartment. He frowned, steel nerves fighting off the shivers threatening to blossom within him.

"And the plot thickens." Tony muttered.

"It doesn't!" Steve shook his head. "This is _good_! We can go and arrest him now! It was him, he broke into her house!"

"You don't know that for sure. It's not that easy, Cap. We'd get caught up in the legal process before the cuffs were locked." Tony frowned apologetically. Steve would just have to trust him on this, even if it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"Actually, it is, sir. Dallas—oh, pardon. It seems there's a disturbance in the kitchen."

"What's going on?" Steve quizzed JARVIS. JARVIS connected to the kitchen, allowing metallic noises to fill the quiet training room. It sounded like pots and pans moving. Nothing that reeked of immediate endangerment to the children.

"Ms. Callari is cooking."

"You sure she's not tearing up my kitchen?"

"She's doing _a lot _of cooking. It appears to be of the 'dessert' nature."

"Tony!" Pepper breezed into the lab. Loose strands of ginger hair and teeth tinted red made her look a bit crazy. "She needs help. I don't know what's going on, but she's not well."

"She got slapped, Pepper. Of course she's not well!" Steve defended.

"No, Steve. This is different. She's chasing everyone off from the kitchen! Liberty's just cooking and cooking and _cooking_! I went to see how she was doing and she shoved whipped cream and sprinkles down my throat!"

"Is a coping mechanism. Liberty always cook big when she unhappy. She won't come back until her heart is better. Right now she's in her own world." explained a new voice. They turned, eyeing a portly woman standing in the doorway.

"Juanta?" Steve felt his eyebrows go into his hair. He hadn't expected her to show up again. SHIELD promised she'd be safe and kept at a distance as they unraveled Liberty's trauma and the explosion mystery. Dr. Eliza followed in behind her.

"I come when I see video of her being hit. My _heart _cannot take it anymore. My love baby needs me."

"Your…love baby?" Tony parroted, a bit confused. She wasn't Liberty's mother. Juanta was the wrong ethnicity, among other things. She smiled, unfazed by his confusion.

"She is my love baby. Liberty brings my heart many love. Her birthday is Valentine's Day, the day of love. Hence, she is a love baby." Juanta giggled softly.

"Ms. Ibanez had a feeling Liberty would be set off by this attack. She demanded I bring her to Liberty. I couldn't say no. She's very persistent, and I figured this would be a good chance to talk to Liberty myself."

"I thought you didn't want to intervene until we were all finished with our attempts?"

"Things change, Mr. Stark. Juanta mentioned Liberty's prone to talking if someone can crack her open. This may give us the lead we're looking for."

"Her mind is very fragile." frowned Juanta. It was sad to know that such a happy, curious child suffered such abuse. She'd withdrawn into herself, becoming quieter than what Juanta recalled. Her smiles were few, and the happy spark was almost killed. Rare moments with her in the kitchen saved it, that spark.

That spark was the true Liberty. The one Juanta remembered and cuddled into her stomach after the wounds healed up enough to do so. She was hiding in the redheaded shell Juanta saw take her place over the years. She was just sitting there, waiting to be discovered.

Hoping someone would look long enough to find her. It was like Caroline locking her in the closet, Juanta thought. Her mind was the door. Caroline was the dark trying to force her into submission (or, in this case, a state of forgetfulness). Someone just had to open it and release the information.

"There is much Liberty doesn't remember. She needs to be led, but not forced. Is like walking a baby. You need to help, but not drag."

"Can you help us?"

"I will try. Do you have another kitchen, Mr. Stark?" Liberty wouldn't share in this state. Juanta knew Liberty well. She would drop everything for a plate of fried polentas.

"It's not a complete kitchen, but there's stocked and equipped break areas on all work-related floors of Stark Solutions."

"Follow me, Ms. Ibanez. I'll take you to the one by my office."

The lab fell silent for a moment. Pepper stepped out to check on the children and warn others of invading Liberty's kitchen space; Steve and Tony were left alone. Steve and Tony shared a long look. All of the veils and complexities would be undone today. They could feel it in the air. Their missing link would be revealed.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" Natasha poked her head into the laboratory. She didn't seem happy. "Why is she in such a mood?"

"It's complicated." Tony commented. He didn't really understand Liberty's coping mechanism, himself. But, he had to trust it. Juanta did.

"I figured that out when she threw her dress at Thor."

"She did _what_?" Steve wanted to run to the kitchen. Was it true? Would he be safe running into the kitchen? _Do it, _encouraged the little voice, _you're a super soldier! You can take it!_

_But it's not right, _he reasoned.

_That's true, _it agreed sadly.

As if Thor knew he was being mentioned, the blonde god stood behind Natasha. His beard was smeared with yellow crumbs and a coating of red frosting. The Norse god's cheeks bulged with food, drawing more attention to the white globs on his face. He gave a thick swallow. "I intended to see this outfit you spoke of, friend Stark, the little one, but she was not wearing it.

"When I asked where it was, she seemed to know nothing of it. Liberty became very heated, rambling things I couldn't comprehend. She spoke of the dress being ill for battle, and about her rage in being struck during an ambush. The dress was thrown at me before she assaulted me with baked treats and frosting. I was fed and sent away with orders to not disturb her again." Thor wiped a thumb across his cheek and licked it clean.

He was confused as hell, but wouldn't oppose. She'd stuffed several small cakes in his mouth. And plenty of tasty filling. Thor held out the discarded dress as proof. It was littered with sprinkles, frosting, dots of food coloring, and patches of flour.

"This went through hell!" Tony ran the material through his fingers, grimacing when flour and frosting was rubbed into the fabric. His thumb bore specks of red sprinkles.

"The same was said about mine and the boys' clothes when we came back from HYDRA's camp."

"Fuck, my kitchen's a warzone!"

* * *

Liberty didn't even remember what she was making anymore. She was just so…_angry_! Her hands _needed _a project, and she let instincts guide her. The kitchen was blanketed with hints of vanilla, chocolate, and berries – she was absently surrounding herself with sweet things. In the back of her mind Liberty knew she needed to calm down, that she needed to be sensible and just _talk _her rage out, but it wasn't happening.

The fury in her wouldn't ebb verbally. Smacking the flour sifter, digging the automatic mixer into bowls, vigorously hand-whipping frosting, and jabbing toothpicks into cakes eased the rage. She vaguely recognized her assailant as one of Katie's friends. Liberty scowled down at the row of raspberry-filled pastry shells waiting to be topped with whipped cream. Katie always received privileges she didn't, and seemed to get what Caroline constantly denied her.

Katie's friend reminded her of that cruelty. She'd been slapped in broad daylight and no one did anything about it. That girl was able to walk away without punishment. She was free to do whatever she wanted, just like Katie. Upper crust society made her _sick_! "I will never be like that!" vowed Liberty with a growl, "I will dirty my hands, make my own living, and marry a man who wants to do his own work!"

She pulled a rectangular ceramic plate down from the upper cabinet. The counter was littered with stained bowls that had yet to join the partially washed ones piling up in the sink. Liberty exhaled deeply, feeling tension and rage escape with the air. Cooking and organizing the food felt nearly as good as talking. There was a certain serenity to be had in making the food, picking the plates, and deciding how to present them.

Her dozen raspberry cream pastry puffs were framed in curlicues of chocolate sauce that wound around the plate. She set it before the three-layer German chocolate cake, turning it horizontally at the last minute. It looked better that way, space-wise and color-wise. The red of the raspberries and slight drizzle of strawberry syrup caused the chocolate in the cake to pop attractively. Two lines of red velvet cupcakes dotted either side of the raspberry pastry plate.

A wineglass of chilled mousse, made of white, dark, and milk chocolate, stood beside every second cupcake. The seemingly empty space created by the cupcake border was quickly occupied by rows of icy frosting flowers on strips of wax paper. _This is how mom must've felt, _Liberty took a moment to wipe her cheek as she gazed proudly at the collection. Liberty felt pride, a bit of fatigue, and a sense of accomplishment.

Her creations didn't take up a lot of room, but accented the space like a lavish spread. Everything was immaculate and purposeful. Looking at fruits of her labor reminded Liberty of Bruce's yoga session. He talked about finding "inner peace" and the spot where the hush of her mind and the calm of her soul could be felt. She found it in the kitchen, amongst the food, and the realization made her shiver.

Any remaining rage was almost instantly forgotten as she laid out plates and silverware. She could see, now, why her mother loved catering. Cooking exerted the body, engaged the mind, and healed the soul. Liberty reclined in one of the sturdy dining chairs and crossed her legs daintily. The mousse was cold, creamy, and chocolaty enough to make her jaw ache.

Her anger left her largely exhausted; sitting made the pain in her feet and arms apparent. Right now was a moment just for her. Katie's friends won the battle, but she got the dessert. They would get what was coming to them, she knew. The irony of producing sweets out of her rage caused Liberty to think back on the years of abuse.

Plenty of bad things had happened, but she came out a better person. Right? Definitely sweeter than the affection that had been given to her. That was a victory all its own. All of Katie's deliberate rule-breaking to fluster her, to push Caroline and remind Liberty just _who _she favorited didn't matter.

Caroline could keep her bank-breaking fashionista granddaughter. Katie only ever ate nasty, expensive foods and dated horrible men. How she hadn't gotten "the talk" about keeping wealth within wealth, Liberty didn't know. She supposed Caroline overlooked it because Katie was like her and Polly in every other way. Polly, herself, had married more than once.

Polly wasn't lectured or frowned upon, though, because she ended up marrying back into money. Uncle Espen was the only sensible one in that bunch. He frowned upon Katie's spending habits and boyfriends. Katie tended to pick boys who were her polar opposites – they all wore tacky jackets, ripped clothes, were mostly unshaven (or went au natural, greasiness and all), and had dangerous means of transportation and bad habits. She tended to attract the black sheep from other families, wealthy or not.

Then, like finishing a puzzle, it all clicked.

"Is it safe to come in now? I don't hear any—hey, nice spread! You have your mother's talent!" Tony grinned. It reminded him of Janice's work; she always had a shape to coincide with her theme. Her displays were full of color, too, and one item always seemed to steal the show. That item, in this case, was a scrumptious and fatty-looking chocolate cake calling his name. Liberty had the decency to blush bashfully at the compliment.

It was nice to hear someone praising her talent for food instead of demeaning it. As scary and sad as it seemed, her apartment going up in flames was the best thing that ever happened to her. Captain – _Steve_, she reminded herself – was, actually. Had she not met him, he wouldn't have led her to Stark Tower on that walk to distribute posters. "Yes," laughed Liberty, "it's safe."

"Fantastic." Tony stepped fully into the kitchen, a scanty maid's outfit swinging from a wire hanger perched on his finger. Liberty eyed it skeptically, pinning Tony with a flat stare. She wasn't getting into that! It looked to be made of lace and leather; the two halves were much too small, and were connected by a barely-there strip running along the torso. He picked up a wineglass filled with mousse.

Tony didn't seem to be affected by the erotic outfit hanging on his finger. "Did you like your dress? I hope so, because that led up to this. The ultimate confidence a woman can have comes from standing in very tiny clothes. Try it." he slipped the shoulders off fluidly and tossed it to her. Liberty snorted, balled it up in her fist, and threw it back. He may be older, but he wouldn't order her around. She was an adult, and would make her _own _choices.

Stark grinned. She seemed to be taking the bait. He was nominated to rile her into speaking. Tony Stark knew how to make people talk, regardless of whether it was nicely or not. Taking another swig of the mousse – even though it was improper to do so – Tony threw the outfit back.

Her red brows furrowed. Tony grinned into his wineglass. "I told you to try it." he repeated.

"I'm not going to." Liberty replied curtly, throwing it back as she re-crossed her legs. She was trying to throw up the illusion that he wasn't touching a nerve. Her quick, level reply was a subtler sign of annoyance.

"You should. I own this tower, and Fury appointed you to be my maid. I want my maid to wear this."

"First off: you're married. Secondly: I don't want to. Thirdly: Fury didn't _appoint _me to be your maid. He's got a dry sense of humor and merely threw it out there."

"And now I'm throwing this to you, so try it on." Tony insisted.

"No, damnit! Just because you're Tony Stark doesn't mean you're the freaking king! Unquestionable power _does not_ come with status! Not the kind to bend wills, anyways."

"It does if you're my brother." Thor took the growing argument as a sign to enter. Tony was distracting Liberty so they could trickle in one by one. The god wasn't afraid; he was of Asgardian genetics! Thor wasn't one to deny the call of food, anyways. Liberty shook her head before the idle comment could inspire distracted curiosity in her.

This was between her and Tony. He'd started it, but she'd finish it. "Being rich doesn't give you a pass to act however you want, Tony. There _are _consequences, if you don't recall. I'd be happy to remind you like I did Hammer." said Liberty. She eyed Tony icily, her voice dropping low and taking on a slight growling quality.

"You hit Hammer because he resembles Katie and Caroline in mannerisms, yes? Because you always wanted to hit them and never got the opportunity to do so?" the feminine voice inquired. Liberty tightened her grip on the wineglass. The woman standing in the doorway looked like Caroline. She was younger, and void of a peeved expression. It was both frightening and foreign at the same time.

Her instinct to run or curl up lost to logic. Liberty was panicking (no doubt about that), but a little voice was quick to point out that she was safe. She was around the Avengers; they wouldn't have let any deliberate harm come to her, much less invade the tower. With no energy left to panic or clam up, logic was free to comfort her like it had never been able to. And, she supposed, her threshold for confidence was higher than it used to be.

All of those silly, stupid activities really had helped. She'd come out of her shell bit by bit. Her housemates taught her that they would not shun her for her condition, nor look down on her for her past. It was comforting. Liberty could go about daily motions without that fear of _how will they look at me? _or _what will they say_? being present.

There was only comfort, not fear. With comfort came confidence.

"I'm Dr. Eliza Abbot. Fury assigned me to you shortly after your apartment exploded."

"But…this is the first time I've seen you." Liberty blinked. It sounded a bit suspicious, her suddenly having a doctor. Where'd she been all this time? Dr. Abbot smiled, expecting doubt.

"And yet, my method has been working like a charm."

"Your…method?"

"Yes. My method was to let your team heal you. By entrusting others to help you, people who are known for protection, you were helped faster than what I could've done on my own. You would've met me with nothing but resistance."

"You're correct. What are you supposed to be helping me with, exactly?" Liberty's barely polite, blunt, business-like tone resulted from Dr. Abbot's resemblance to Caroline. She'd always wanted to be short and icy to the woman, but had been afraid.

"Actually, I was hoping _you_ could help _us_. Fury and I, that is. We believe that Hammer, the man Steve chased from your apartment, your grandmother, and maybe your cousin are collaborating on something big. Something that goes beyond dognapping which, we believe, was the starting point. SHIELD thinks you may have those answers hidden in the repressed memories you keep."

This was a lot to take in at once. Liberty felt her brain stop entirely in effort to process it. Her grandmother…involved in schemes with Hammer? Something that went beyond dognapping? _I knew she was evil, but damn! _Liberty snorted.

"Do you think you know how this is all related?" Dr. Abbot asked tentatively. Juanta distinctly remembered Caroline setting Liberty and Hammer up on "play dates" when they were younger, and Eliza wanted to see if she'd say that. How Liberty answered determined when – if ever – they might get some answers. It came easily to Liberty, like following the trail in a connect-the-dots book.

"Of course." _maybe if I tell her what she wants she'll go away_, thought Liberty. "The Hammer family and Ramsey family were in the same social circles. Caroline used to coordinate play dates with Hammer's dad. I didn't like them, but she refused to let me marry 'lesser blood'." Liberty spat Caroline's phrase out. She was a horrible woman.

"And what about the man?"

"I wasn't there when that happened. When I came home Captain's—Steve's, sorry—nose was bleeding. I just patched him up."

"Does the name Darren Narcozi ring a bell?"

"That's Dally's brother!" Liberty grinned brightly. "Darren and I didn't really talk, but Dally and I were attached at the hip! Their family situation was like mine, in a way." she mumbled into her hands. Dally wasn't abused, but he suffered. He discovered at a very early age that he had homosexual feelings, and Liberty was the only one who knew for nearly a decade. Dallas suffered in fear and silence.

She hadn't heard from him since the day they graduated. Liberty assumed he was lying low and keeping off the radar. His family would go into a frenzy if they figured out the truth. The Narcozis relied on Dally as their saving grace; Darren was far too rough and carless for a life of finery. Most families had a black sheep; Darren was a black _bear_.

"We think he's the man who entered – and blew up – your apartment." Dr. Abbot regretted to inform. Liberty frowned, making a disappointed noise at the back of her throat.

"He never liked Dallas, but I don't think he'd target me as a result of that."

"Does he have any other connection to you?"

"He's the wild child of rich parents. I'm sure Katie's slept with him." Liberty unashamedly answered. It was highly possible. Which boyfriend he'd been, though, she didn't know. Liberty liked – and tried – to forget how many times she'd walked in on Katie.

"Are you _sure_?"

"Give me a picture, age it down to about nineteen, throw in some facial hair, and I could tell you."

"We have that tech in the lab. C'mon!" Tony stole a raspberry pastry before motioning for the others to follow. Since Coriander's kidnapping Tony was permitted to have programs typically only available to law enforcement – it saved Hulk from needlessly trashing Manhattan in desperation. One of those programs was the ability to manipulate photos. Steve tried to control his jaw as she passed, heels clicking across the floor as she trotted dutifully along with the others. He'd avoided entering the kitchen to save his brain, to save the little voice, but it didn't work.

She'd managed to implant herself in his mind, anyways. Her bra and panty set was a rich sapphire blue. The sway of her buttocks pulled Steve's eyes like a magnet as he stumbled along after the group. His thrumming heart and quick gait did well to combat his desire to pant. Liberty's panties were cut at a sharp angle, further eroticizing the lace and silk they appeared to be made of.

Those panties were just _begging _to be ripped off. And those heels? They would support her for the five seconds Steve _didn't _pin her to the bed. He shuddered at all the ideas blitzing through his mind, embracing the colder lab area as his body threatened to flush. She was completely unaware of his torment, idly enjoying her whipped treat and making unknowingly delectable faces.

Steve wanted to drop to the floor. Standing was very hard. Most of his oxygen was gone. He was sure all of his blood was in his penis. _Please spill that. Please do. I'll lick it all off, I promise_. he and the little voice wanted to rasp lovingly.

He was so hard it hurt. Steve was nearly delirious with want. The super soldier was tired of smoldering in agony. She had to be aching too, right? Rogers could bear very few days like this before he went insane.

Steve _needed _her. He wanted her spirit to comfort his, to educate her mind and indulge on the things she caused him to recall. This went beyond sex, but that glorious act would bond them. Every fiber in him would finally have her, would finally _know _her, and the craving would be dulled. The ember would have a steady supply of wood to forever be a faithfully burning fire.

"That's him!" Liberty bounced excitedly in the heels, hypnotizing Steve. Tiny breasts _could _jiggle, he found out. She pointed to a de-aged, scruffy-looking picture of the masked man. He had limp, layered blonde locks and three days' worth of stubble.

"We've got our man. I'll call Fury."

"Tell him we found him," Bruce instructed, "but don't make a move. Based on what we've seen, and on what Fury's told us, he'll run. We need to draw him out."

"Actually, we just need to wait. He opposes everything his family stands for, right? He'll be at Hammer's party. We can collar him there."

"He'd go just to ruin it." Clint agreed. "And he won't be able to run in public."

"He won't get very far, at least." added Natasha.

"Fantastic teamwork! Case closed! Let's go eat!" cheered Tony. He really wanted a piece of that cake, damnit.

"It's no entirely closed, Tony." Dr. Abbot stifled the joy. "We still don't know what part the dogs play in all this. Hell, we don't even know if we should be worried about Hammer's giant wineglass!"

"If you think my grandma's involved, then my aunt probably is, too. It would make sense for her to be, anyways. She used to be a full-time veterinarian before she met my uncle. Now she makes house calls for a select few that pay out the ass." Liberty wiped a dot of mousse from her lips.

"Based on their relationships and skill sets, we have enough to pin them all for pre-meditation. Conspiracy, maybe, if we can get one of them to squeal." Dr. Abbot drummed her fingernails against her teeth as she thought. She and Tony tentatively discussed their motive: money. Caroline was free to claim and disperse part of that vast fortune if Liberty went missing. Why Hammer was involved, though, she couldn't fathom. He'd hired a psychopath before…maybe Caroline wanted a new mind to head the murder scheme?

"You still sound worried." noted Bruce.

"The gigantic wineglass still bothers me." she admitted.

"The wineglass cannot move. I'm sure it poses no threat." Thor assured her. "Let us feast to celebrate these glorious findings. We have won the battle before it even began! To the kitchen!"

Liberty made sure to keep her distance from Dr. Abbot, but followed everyone to the kitchen. She was surprised to find a steaming plate of polentas on the table. It ruined the sweet theme unifying her creations, but that wasn't what made her speechless. Only one person made polentas. "You always _were _a cheeky child," teased a female voice lovingly in thickly accented English, "but I still love you."

"JUANTA!" Liberty didn't know whether she set the mousse down first and then spun or if she just threw her hands up and whirled around. It was Juanta! Steve's eyes honed in on the glob of mousse smeared across her collarbone. _I'll get that for you. Just come to – no, no don't go to Juanta! _the little voice pouted. He focused on balancing cake, one or two of the frosting flowers, and a cupcake.

That left him unable to blurt out his inner thoughts. Liberty became cuddly almost instantly. She abandoned the mousse and opted for literally jumping into Juanta's arms. The little redhead was content to rest in the crook of Juanta's neck. "I so proud of you," Juanta ran her callused hand down Liberty's back. "You did good with the doctor!"

"Thank you." she smiled. Juanta smelled lightly of something heady and earthy. It was a comforting scent. Liberty had no qualms with snuggling up to Juanta – clothes or not – and eating her polentas. The Spanish woman cuddled her and stroked her hair, unfazed by Liberty's state of undress.

She always slept half-dressed as a child. Liberty never was a fan of going to sleep with shorts or pants on. "To our brilliance!" Tony was unashamed to toast. The others raised their glasses, but not completely for that sentiment. It was more or less to appease Tony before he pouted.

Liberty did nothing, her cheeks too stuffed with polentas to talk.

"I wouldn't celebrate yet, sir." JARVIS spoke up.

"Um…why _not _celebrate, JAR?" Tony wondered as Pepper and Coriander toted the children into the room. They were all sleepy-eyed and beginning to wake up. The three children came alive at the faint smell of sugar and chocolate perfuming the room.

"Because several cop cars are arriving, sir. A lawyer is also present."

The merriment stopped.

"Why are your systems not activated? Who is it?"

"I can't legally activate them before law enforcement, sir. And they produced court documents. Mrs. Ramsey has apparently filed a motion declaring the tower unfit for Liberty's occupation due to reasonable endangerment via association. It seems this is an extraction attempt."

"She's trying to shut her up and shut us down." Eliza jumped to her feet. She had to hide Juanta before anyone came into the house. That would only tip Caroline off that they were digging into the past. The kitchen was suddenly a beehive of activity.

"I'm calling Fury now," Eliza took Juanta by the hand and ran towards the nearest elevator. Liberty was quickly upended, and wasn't sure what to do.

"Grab a jacket and your phone, Steve. Get her out of here!"

"Way ahead of you." Steve scooped her up and ran to his room. He'd been entrusted because of his separate apartment, he assumed. Liberty felt dizzy. One minute she was in the kitchen, and the next, she was in Steve's room! The blonde threw her a jacket, stuffing his army folder carefully into a duffel bag along with his tooth brush, cellphone, and razor.

Liberty only had time to grab things from her bathroom. Steve ripped her from the room, down the hallway, and into the garage before she could get clothes. "Wait!" she breathed. Her clicking heels and shrill voice echoed in the massive garage. "Can she really do this? I'm of legal age to choose my own residency!"

"I don't know, but if Tony sees a threat then there is one. We don't want to give her the chance." Steve tilted her chin up long enough to secure the helmet. He strapped on his own before throwing the bags into a wind-resistant carrier on the back. "The timing's too convenient. Something's up." he speculated before giving Liberty's hands one last squeeze, revving the engine, and tearing out of the garage.

* * *

"I want my granddaughter, Stark!" demanded Caroline. One lawyer and seven armed policemen stood behind her. She planted her bony fists into her hips, glaring through the billionaire. Tony was unfazed.

"She's not here."

"Where is she?!"

"Out, Mrs. Ramsey. She _is _twenty-one, and does have a life." Tony replied coolly.

"Don't get smart with me! I want her removed from this tower _immediately_! You and your occupants are nothing but a threat to her!"

"That's funny, because I don't recall hurting her. I heard she was slapped by someone _your _granddaughter knows, though." Caroline deflated slightly. Tony smirked. Did she not expect him to research Liberty's attacker? Oh, he had.

"She's not well! She needs to come home with me!"

"Based on what grounds?" Pepper had the nerve to ask. The lawyer stepped forward, all but shoving a set of papers at her.

"She's suffering mental trauma from the explosion of her apartment. Liberty's not well enough to make important decisions like the company she keeps. Caroline doesn't believe her granddaughter would willingly surround herself with danger magnets if she were of sound mind."

"She _is _of sound mind." Pepper barely refrained from growling.

"The stress of staying with superheroes can't be good for her. She's clearly taken on Mr. Stark's mannerisms where Mr. Hammer is concerned." Caroline sniffed indignantly. "The behaviors she's learning will only do her harm. As her only immediate next of kin, I want her returned to my care."

Tony leaned against the doorway. She could pull out all the stops and defenses she wanted. He wasn't having it. "So did you start caring after you found out she was alive, after she seemed happy, or after you realized you could still get the money she inherited?" he wondered. Caroline remorselessly slapped him on the cheek; her face was flushed with rage.

"THAT'S ASSAULT!" Pepper screeched as Thor held her back by her skirt. "REMOVE HER FROM THE PROPERTY _NOW_!"

The tables were turned on Caroline. She'd struck first, and the police couldn't play favorites. She was stuttering and fuming as the policemen grabbed her arms and escorted the writhing woman from the stoop.

"This isn't over, Stark! I promise you that!" she hollered as they led her away. Her lawyer left flustered and cursing. Tony had been in courtrooms enough to know when a lawyer was unaware of something. Caroline had obviously neglected to tell him of the large sum Liberty owned before starting this mission. And the origin of Liberty's attacker, he assumed.

"That was random." Cori mumbled, eyes the size of dinner plates as she finally calmed the last child down.

"No it wasn't, Squirt." Tony shook his head. "Caroline likes control, and doesn't leave room for chance. She's covering her ass. I think she knew Liberty would loosen up if she was treated like a human being, and now she's trying to quiet her. The attack at the grocery store was just a ruse; she was setting the stage to prove us unfit to house her."

"Which won't work." Eliza basically jogged into the foyer. She was pink-cheeked and slightly winded. "Fury's got cameras all _over _her. Caroline doesn't have the grounds or the right to extract Liberty, not when we can prove she staged the grocery store incident. He's going to pull some strings and keep Caroline from filing anymore baseless papers, but wants her and Steve to lie low for about a day." announced Eliza.

"That's smart, but not foolproof." Natasha folded her arms under her breasts. "People like Caroline rarely give up so easily."

"You heard her." said Clint, unblinking.

"Women like her always have a backup plan." Tony shook his head.

"Or take a different route," Bruce piped up. "If she can't get Liberty legally, then she'll do it _illegally_."

* * *

Caroline wouldn't let anyone sit with her in the limo. Her lawyer had been made to sit up front with the help. Police cars no longer hemmed her. Once they realized Liberty was gone, and that they had to obey their obligation to remove her from Stark's property, they went about their nightly patrol. She was completely alone, and furious that she'd been refused. Outwitted, even.

They'd be sorry. She'd make them all pay. Especially that damned _Captain_, who seemed to be missing from the front door. Huffing, she dialed a number on her cellphone. It was answered on the second ring.

"It didn't work." she said. "Get your guy and do it _your_ way."

_"Thank you!" _the voice was equal parts smug and delighted. _"In exchange, you hold up _your _side of the deal."_

"You'll have it by tomorrow. I _promise_."

_"Fantastic. So, I'll see you at the wedding?"_


	14. Love and Lies

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Surpassed my review goal! Alright! Thanks everyone! I'm updating because of that, and because I knocked out a huge load of homework today as soon as I got home from school (I'm suspicious. College is starting to get easy again…I have a feeling I'll be slammed by the time the semester ends xD). This couple has officially been named Liberteve, which I find absolutely adorable.

Trying to conjure a Stark OC's name. His story may come before the start of _Heroism 101_. I'm more comfortable writing solo couples than mashing them all together. Plus, giving all of the singular couples their own story will help me feel better about completion and fairness xD (if that makes sense). OC's for Thor and Loki have been made and are complete, but I know I'd end up writing a fairly dark-minded Loki, and I don't know if people want to read that.

The rape scene in _Doctor Patient Confidentiality _wasn't received well, and that only scratches the surface of villainous male vileness that I'm capable of. So…yeah, qualms with writing Loki. Would you guys read that? It would probably take place during _Thor_.

Rambling. Sorry. Thanks to spiffymac0617, Miroheen, miller330, starkassemblyrequired (left a review on your story, by the way) and Drachegirl14. Miroheen, your "missile crisis" mention made me giggle. Thank you for making my day :D.

They have sex in this chapter. So if you don't like that, or feel uncomfortable reading mature scenes, there's your warning. It's semi-graphic. Hopefully I won't get penalized by Fanfiction (and thus get the story removed), so if it seems stilted, it's because I'm afraid of truly "letting loose" due to the rating system. We'll just say Steve wears boxers, by the way. Fudging Peggy's age of death, also.

To understand Time Bomb, or his ability to make portals, read _We Need to Quit Meeting like This_' "The Super Villain is Super Screwed" chapter. He's better explained there (and will reappear in the Steve/Liberty fic where she gets thrown back in time. Which is still not named…).

Sorry for the choppiness of the last chapter (it felt choppy to me because I jumped around. Had to, to integrate all the important bits). Enjoy! Reviews are loved!

* * *

Thirteen: Love and Lies

Steve tuned back in to the humming of his shower after peeking outside all windows inside his home. He didn't know what was going on, or why Stark had him flee the tower, but it something was amiss. His gut was taut like his nerves. _It's going to happen! It's going to happen. It's bad…here it comes…this is the end! _Steve's mind whispered. Those same thoughts ran through his mind when he pasted himself across that dummy grenade nearly seventy years ago.

_That _blow never came, but this one would. He could feel it in his bones. The notion bore the same certainty as dark clouds bringing rain in April did. It was a blow he couldn't predict, nor defend against, and Steve was angry. How could he prepare for the unknown?

He forced himself to relax after spotting no sign of SHIELD, police cars, or Caroline Ramsey. All was well…for the moment. The minutes crept by as silence coated his room. Steve's apartment was no sprawling manor like Avengers' Tower, but it was home. It was cozy; he had one bedroom with a bathroom built in, a nice-sized living room that housed crammed bookshelves, a TV, computer, and his drawing desk, a kitchen area, and a laundry room that held what little workout equipment he owned.

His stress was very apparent in the silence. So was the confused isolation he felt concerning Liberty's predicament. Steve understood Caroline's personality, and had seen what happened to Liberty as a child, but what was he supposed to do? He was never good at talking to women, much less women who had a past history of abuse and were being chased by overly possessive grandmothers. It was very annoying to be a symbol of defense, an avid protector, and linger perplexedly in ignorance while someone suffered nearby.

Especially when that someone was Liberty, who he loved. Who said she loved him back. It made Steve feel frustrated and inadequate, like he failed her even though she asked nothing of him. Finally, he couldn't take being alone. The quiet was mounting and tormenting him.

"A-are you alright in there? I don't here the shower anymore." said Steve as he rapped on the door with his knuckles. Hearing her speak would make him feel better. It would calm the storm brewing within him. Having someone else in his apartment, someone familiar and close, was comforting. Hearing a response would relax him.

It would help his alert mind realize that she was fine. That they were safe and together. "I'm fine, just toweling off." Steve heard through the door. The reply was soft and low, like Liberty was exhausted.

"Okay." he blew out a sigh. She was there, at least. Liberty didn't sound like herself, though, which worried him. His stomach flopped and curled painfully again. His emotions were being twisted mercilessly by the situation; Steve felt like the straw wrapper of his vanilla milkshake – tied in knots.

Steam bled out of the bathroom as she exited. His eyes drifted to her face, noticing the redness and puffiness of her eyes before taking in the sight of her sapphire bra straps. Liberty was without a shirt, he noticed. He stood up to fetch one of his after the realization settled in a moment later. She stood with the towel confidently tucked within itself, separating messy sections of hair and putting them back in their proper place.

"Here." whispered Steve, holding out the shirt slowly. He wanted more time to drink her in. To observe the lightless sadness in her eyes and try to figure out why she felt that way. It hurt to see her like this.

"Thanks." she mumbled, slipping it over her head as the towel dropped from her body. Steve collected it, roping the towel over the shower curtain support as he grabbed a comb for her wild curls. Liberty took residency in his drawing chair, not wanting to get his bed wet, and combed her hair by lamplight. Her blue eyes were cloudy with thought; a gradually growing frown aged her in a way lamplight could not reverse.

It looked like her emotions were soaking up any sign of youth or hope, Steve thought. Her usual quiet levity was gone. She was just some dismal character sharing his room, it seemed. Liberty was gone in thought and paling with solemnity. The sight terrorized Steve more than the silence.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, eyes locked on her. She paused, blinked, and lifted her head a few centimeters to match his gaze. He was looking at her intensely enough to catch the slight raise of her chin. Those haunted eyes stared at him. Steve couldn't see her eyes from the bed, but knew them – and her – well enough.

They were typically an electric blue color, but slowly clouded over with strips and chunks of indigo as her mood worsened. Part of him wanted to console her. The rest of him wanted to stay away so he didn't have to see how much indigo was really in her eyes. She set the brush down gently, but the noise echoed. "I…" Liberty's brows furrowed as she felt her tongue reflexively tighten and thicken.

She wasn't really good with expressing herself. Aside from that, she didn't talk to men on a regular basis. Dally didn't really count, as he liked to gossip like a girl (and their last conversation had been nearly three years ago). The other Avengers – though loved and appreciated – were merely casual conversations. This was _Steve_. He was different.

He sensed her inability to talk to men. Him, at least. If this were any other circumstance, he would've smiled. It was something else they had in common. "Are worried?" Steve ventured, "Tired? Um…menstruating?"

"N-no. None of that. I mean…I'm worried, but none of that." Liberty shook her head disappointedly. He was in the ballpark, but it wasn't the right word. She didn't know if she _could _explain it. Steve padded warily over to the chair, laying a big hand on her wet hair to gently pull his fingers through it. Liberty felt like he was pulling at threads and trying to unravel her messy mind.

Four ministrations later, it began to work. She felt her lips fall open as her brain hushed. "I feel…alone. I feel _trapped_." tears welled up in her eyes as the words hung in the air. It was true, and verbalizing it intensified the feeling. Her tears increased as the worry, confusion, and familiar loneliness saddled on her back.

The weight was enough to compress her, and Liberty felt her elbows touch her knees. She sobbed soundlessly into her palms. At least Caroline had taught her to cry quietly. Giving in to the open, long sobs would leave her with no dignity left to reclaim after this. Liberty turned her blurry vision on Steve as he gently pushed against her shoulders.

"You're not alone." he assured. "C'mere." Steve gingerly scooped her up and started for the bed. She didn't need to cry at a distance, or in a hard chair. He wanted her to be surrounded by softness, and by himself. The super soldier held her for a few moments, lips bent down into her wet hair as she recovered from crying.

She'd stuffed her face into his shirt. It was almost natural. The scent of him beckoned her, and acted as a soothing blanket. His heart beat leisurely and consistently behind the white fabric. Her heart rate lowered almost five minutes later.

Liberty sniffed, swallowing thickly as the heat of Steve's body enveloped her. He was perfect, and she loved him. Steve was always attentive. The issue of her abuse never escaped his sights, and he was always there…even when she didn't want him. While the other Avengers eased her trauma and cultured her confidence, he'd been the driving force.

Steve had cracked her defenses and created a pathway for the others. He never gave up. And, most importantly, he kept putting Caroline in a bad light. The fact that he did made her believe in all those things she thought as a little girl. It made her feel a little less hopeless and a bit more grounded.

"Why do you think you're trapped?" Steve wondered curiously, voice intimately quiet. His apartment wasn't that small, was it? Liberty looked up at him, heart and spirit lifting at the sight of blue eyes that sought to understand. His lips absently, instinctively, brushed down her forehead for a brief second.

"Caroline…" Liberty felt her tongue thickening again. She wanted to speak, but couldn't. It was like her earlier days in Stark Tower when she tried adamantly to deny everything and forget her past. Looking at Steve's face, creased lightly in concern, love, and patience, relaxed her. "Caroline _always _does this. She pulls strings. She isolates me. Ultimately, I end up being discredited, returned to her, and stuck in that prison she calls a house." she explained.

"Well, she can't pull strings now. No one's fought Caroline before because they _trust _her. Tony doesn't. Caroline can't pull strings when Tony's got his hand on the controller, too." Steve pointed out. "You're not alone." he reminded, giving her little waist a squeeze as he drew her in closer.

"I…I know." Liberty shut her eyes and furrowed her brows in an apologetic manner. "It's just…habit. I guess I expected it would happen, like usual. Or will." she shrugged. _God_ Steve was loveable. Almost criminally so. He was such a _good_ man; Liberty felt like she was ruining him with her issues.

"You're not fighting alone this time. We'll turn the tables and help you." Steve placed another kiss on her forehead. "_I'll _help you."

"Thank you." muttered Liberty, accepted the kiss. She straightened her form and raised her face to kiss him on the chin.

"Caroline won't be able to isolate you this time. She'll have to get through me. And, since that's not possible, she can't have you. She couldn't have you, anyways, because _I _have you." she scooted upwards to lay her head on the plush pillow stuffed against the headboard. Liberty was now level with Steve, and watched his eyes sparkle with conviction and honesty. "And I'm not going to let you go." added Steve as the loving sentiment deepened his voice and tinged it with lusty possessiveness.

Liberty was _his_, and he wouldn't let her feel this way. He wouldn't let someone else ruin her. It was his job to cheer her up. That's what a man did for his woman, and she was his woman. Steve gave a short heave to lower himself, ankles hanging off the bed as he positioned himself to kiss the shell of her ear.

Shivers exploded in Liberty as his warm lips touched her cold ear. The flesh of her face was chilled by her damp hair, but he was steadily warming it. Steve traced the shape of her ear unashamedly with kisses, drifting towards the center of her face. He wanted to catch the remaining tears and kiss away any evidence of the trails they left behind. She didn't deserve anymore bad memories, and he wouldn't let this one become a part of her collection.

They moved fluidly together, as they always had. They were highly compatible, from their taste in music to their ideas about modest attire. She rolled over on her back as Steve slipped one leg over her hip to hover closer still and shield her with his body. He staked his left knee into the mattress as her hands drew him close. Her little fingers branched out, fanning tenderly over his broad shoulders and lean back.

Mirroring her affection, Steve sealed his lips to her. She'd brought them closer together with her arms. He was doing it with their mouths. Steve nursed her lips sweetly, engaging in a series of quick, soft kisses that blended together into one long kiss. Rogers refused to lift his head; separating would feel like a punishment when they were this close, emotionally and physically.

He could taste the hope in her. Steve was nearly certain that she was on the edge, just like him. Waiting for the spark to become a ceaseless wildfire only the other could tame. Anticipation tightened them, submissive to the heady heat filling their bodies. His fingers brushed under the hem of her borrowed shirt, cupping her thigh and gliding upwards towards her hip.

Her shirt followed, wrinkling against his hand as every inch was unveiled. Liberty's porcelain skin was soft in his warm hand. Steve drew a loop on her back, idly feeling for indications of the many scars with callused fingertips. It was all even to him. Not a single ridge or hint of roughness met his hand. She was truly perfect.

Steve released a contented hum as his fingers fluttered over her bra band and shoulders. This was perfect. _This _is what he wanted. He indulged for a moment, taking in the texture of her skin, the beat of her heart, and the heat warming his chest. Liberty pulled away, mouth soft but reddened with passion, and quietly removed her shirt.

His eyes memorized every inch of her, from dainty shoulders to innie-outie bellybutton. She hovered silently overhead, appearing to copy his caring scrutiny as her hair tickled his cheeks. They wordlessly agreed that this would be a sweet and slow adventure. It was desire birthed from the need to comfort and a yearning to wholly intertwine. Soft and slow was how Steve wanted his first time to go, anyways.

She rose up and Steve drew back; it was further confirmation of their ability to move in tandem with one another. He removed his shirt, surprised to face her bare breasts once it was completely gone. His blue eyes caught her reddened cheeks and Steve paused, one hand curiously molded around a tiny mound. "What?" he delved curiously.

"They're small." she mumbled. He felt one brow rise at her comment. Was she embarrassed by that? How big did she expect them to _be _with her stature? Steve grinned, opting for a warm exhale instead of a chuckle.

He felt the inner animal inching through him, cultured and strengthened by his heated blood. Steve became very aware of her scent. The softness of her in his hand. How she was lax despite the slightest hint of anticipation tensing her body. Guided by the motions of his inner male, emboldened by the animal, Steve lowered his mouth to her left bosom.

An unexpected moan was ripped from her throat. Her body couldn't decide if it wanted to tremble or melt because of the wet heat. Liberty felt her stomach tighten as Steve suckled and swirled his tongue around, painting circles on her flesh. Breathing heavily, flushed with male pride and a hint of deviousness, Steve released her to analyze his work. "I think they're perfect," he mused, pinching the taut peak experimentally between two fingers. "And _delicious_."

She mewled at the contact, blushing deeply. A wicked part of Steve loved that noise. It fed him. Spurred him. He cupped her neglected bosom in his right hand while the other descended to her hip, plucking at the fabric of her panties.

His mouth returned to hers, eager for another dose of the addictive, sweet numbness she brought. Steve raised his muscular body, army training easily keeping him aloft as she rose just enough to slip the panties from her hips. He lowered himself slightly, preventing her from completely removing them. They caught around her knees, but Steve could care less. She was gently cupping his erection.

He blinked rapidly and blissfully. The super soldier bucked as she gave him a cautious squeeze. It was wonderful. Waves of heat supercharged his pulse, energizing him. Steve gave a guttural groan, burying his face in the junction of her neck and shoulder.

"Steve!" she gasped airily, the nails of her free hand digging into his back. He made a noise of recognition, vibrating the skin of her neck. Satisfied with the mark left by his lips, Steve kissed up her neck. The super soldier rocked restlessly into her hand.

"Zipper…" he panted against her ear, nuzzling her.

"You'll need to move to get out of them."

"I know." mumbled Steve, stealing one more kiss. The soldier swiftly rolled away, planting his feet on the floor. With one shove and a mighty kick Steve was free of his pants and boxers. He flexed his honed muscles, lithely embracing Liberty once again. She ascended to meet his hungry mouth, leaning into the prominent erection.

"What now?"

"I was hoping you'd know." Steve blushed. Lust and clumsy loving were playing out equally, which he liked. They were back into the fumbling now. Liberty bit her lip as she smiled crookedly, shaking her head.

"I imagined you would've gotten some experience before you were frozen." she admitted.

"Never found the right girl." Steve grinned, hand sliding from her bottom to her neck. He cradled Liberty's neck, kneading it softly. "Until now." he smirked, kissing her cheek.

"We're the only people who can have a legitimate conversation during sex and still _have _sex." Liberty laughed. Steve chuckled, using his free hand to grip her buttocks. "Do you…have protection?"

"Yes, actually." he gently pushed her back into the bed, reaching for his nightstand. Steve usually slept on the right side; it was a habit to keep things in reach of his dominant hand. Liberty eyed him with amusement and a speck of skepticism. "Fury made me buy them to see how they've changed since my day." clarified Steve as he picked one from the box. It would be left at that; he didn't want to share the application process SHIELD taught him.

That had been an embarrassing day. But, Fury thought they might use him for infiltration one day. And women of the modern age could apparently appreciate a man who willingly used protection. It was a skill they thought he'd need. Liberty watched with innocent interest.

Steve could thank her for making him harder as he applied the condom. That day wasn't all bad. He'd learned invaluable information on how it felt for a woman to be bedded. His enhanced strength made those basics and mechanics very important. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Liberty shrugged, pulling him down into her. She'd never had sex. What was it like? How was she supposed to prepare? Romance novels could verbally describe it, but nothing compared to the physical experience (or so she imagined).

"I'll be gentle." Steve promised, kissing her temple. The woman at SHIELD – who coached him based on personal recollections, which mortified Steve – taught him to carefully insert a finger into his partner. That gauged her tightness and would give him an idea of how cautious to be. Her body arched, their chests touching. Liberty's body was hot, tight, and tingled mercilessly at the feel of Steve's finger inside her.

"I'm going to make you sing like a chorus girl." Steve predicted, laughing breathily at his own joke. She was incredibly tight, already gripping him like a glove. Now he knew why Bucky liked the ladies. Liberty chuckled when she found the air, kissing his temple. After adjusting comfortably to two additional, long fingers, the lovers shared a look.

It was time.

Entering her inch by inch was painful for his patience, but worth it. The grip of her sex was like iron. He enjoyed sitting still within her as her body adjusted, and enjoyed the gentle rhythm established moments later. Dragging her over the hormonal cliff was fun, too. He needed more; a taste was not enough…a taste opened the door. A _taste_ was like adding gas to fire. Steve wouldn't suffer alone, and needed to channel the burning. Needed to fill her.

"I have two more condoms in the box." he muttered enticingly against her lips. It was a three pack, and he didn't know whether to appreciate that or hate it. Flushed, dazed by her release, Liberty giggled airily. Steve's eyes glittered as he stroked his knuckles across her cheek. The "afterglow" women described to him made her seem ethereal.

"I'm good for one more."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

_Knock-knock! Knock-knock-knock! KNOCK-KNOCK!_

Steve inhaled deeply, sighing in aggravation. Liberty was really comfortable. He didn't want to get up. She smelled like the two of them, as well as the shampoo she used. A hint of her perfume from yesterday lingered.

He carefully lifted his head, undoing the arms about him with delicacy. Steve slipped out of bed, throwing on his boxers and a pair of sweatpants. One peek through the peephole identified the hurried knockers as Natasha and Clint. Slightly more awake than before, Steve opened the door. They slipped in speedily, defending their position as highly skilled SHIELD agents.

"What's going on?" Steve mumbled curiously, blinking to compensate for the desire to rub his eyes. He wouldn't do that in front of them. It was probably already suspicious that he'd slept in until nine.

"Tony wanted us to drop off some more of Liberty's things." Natasha said, handing over a Stark Solutions duffle bag. Steve nodded, peeking curiously into the bag. A smaller plastic bag with feminine items and her cellphone sat atop the mountain of clothes.

"He thinks it'd be best for you guys to stay low. Caroline's causing a media firestorm since Dr. Abbot released – anonymously – phone transcripts of her asking Sherry to confront Liberty." Clint told him.

"It's safest for her to stay here, but you know that. The media will suffocate her with questions."

"I can do that. Would you like to come in?"

"We can stay for a bit." Clint looked to Natasha, as if trying to make her agree after the fact. The tower was full of emotions at the moment. There wasn't a floor high enough to keep him out of it. Pepper was pissed at Caroline for slapping Tony and staging the Hammer fight, Tony was bickering with Caroline's lawyer, Bruce's stress levels were up, the twins knew their parents were unhappy, and Emery was just very confused. Thor was doing his best to diffuse the tension by reminding them that Liberty was safe with Steve, but it did little to help.

Tony kept making fun of by calling him Shakespeare every time he spoke. Or repeating the "Does mother know-eth you wear-eth her drapes?" line he despised.

Steve locked the door again, never one to spare caution, and invited them to sit. "I can whip something up." he muttered as he shuffled to the kitchen.

"So, do you always cook half naked?" Natasha inquired casually, nudging Clint to stifle his chuckle. Steve paused. A shirt. Right. He usually wore one of those.

He refused to dignify that with a remark. That made Clint laugh even harder. Natasha wouldn't laugh, but flashed him a knowing smirk. Steve blushed, snapping to attention at the kitchen stove. The eggs absorbed his frustration as he _finely _scrambled them.

Clint took a plate, but not Natasha. Steve saved one for himself and contemplated on what to do with the unclaimed plate. Liberty was still sleeping, and he dare not disturb her. Or so he thought; he could hear her shuffling in. Her face pinched in pain every few steps, but she masked it for the most part.

The pain was _well _worth the pleasure Steve Rogers offered, Liberty thought.

"Morning." smiled Liberty, rubbing her eye. She looked to be more made up than him; Liberty wore one of his large shirts, and had actually combed her hair. Liberty kissed his cheek in exchange for the plate of eggs.

"Cute. You're all domestic." teased Natasha. Steve blushed. Liberty grinned unashamedly. Who would regret kissing Steve Rogers? Not her.

"Hmm…you can still speak. Guess Clint isn't kissing you hard enough with that _beak_ of his."

"Hey!" Clint protested through a mouthful of eggs. Liberty giggled.

"Very funny." conceded Natasha dryly.

"Mind if I turn on the TV, Cap?"

"Not at all." Steve followed behind Liberty as they made their way to the couch. It was to make sure she actually arrived, as he imagined the soreness was a worthy impediment. And maybe he wanted to discretely caress her again. They _had _disturbed him, after all. He wasn't finished, and probably never would be.

Bucky was right. Laying with a woman could get a man hooked. Steve refused to let it consume him, though, because there was more to Liberty – and the life he wanted – than sex. Much more. "So what's on the team schedule? Aside from fighting?" Steve looked to them.

"I was supposed to play poker with your girlfriend, but it seems she's already been through a few rounds with you. Dr. Abbot may or may not want your report." she smirked at Steve. He blushed deeply, as did Liberty.

Clint finished his eggs with an absent cackle, half-interested in the Saturday morning infomercial. "I'm going to train. Tasha's helping Pepper learn how to box. She thinks it'll calm her down."

"It _might_." she corrected him. "She's sensitive about Tony. It's extremely childish."

"Anything related to love is childish to you, 'Tasha."

"That means you're childish, Clint." her eyes flicked to him. Clint blushed for a few seconds. Steve barely caught it, but he witnessed the nervous fidget preceding temporary stillness. He laughed.

"You are—" Clint began.

_"Breaking news ladies and gentleman." _an announcer cut off the overly excited description of a "super juicer". _"Justin Hammer's record-breaking wineglass has been _taken_!"_

"What?!" Steve's eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"Why would someone take that?" Clint shook his head in disappointment. It was a museum! Were there not better, simpler things to take?

"The real question is: how many were there, and why weren't they caught?" Natasha observed.

"He deserved it." muttered Liberty.

_"Police are baffled as to how the robbery occurred, and wonder how the apparently lone culprit pulled this off. Video footage clearly shows the wineglass as viewed yesterday. Watch, now, as the strange light coats the back wall and seemingly consumes the wineglass."_

The museum looked like it had yesterday, only void of people. A security guard just passed out of range when the oddity began. Behind the massive wineglass was a large, bright area of light. It seemed to be a whitish-blue hue through the camera lens. One man in a flying metal contraption (something Steve thought looked like a cross between a parachute and a remote-controlled ceiling fan) circled the wineglass.

His back was to the camera. The bright light increased, and he followed it. They sat, spellbound, by five minutes of footage of the unknown man pushing the wineglass. With care and patience he'd managed to shove it completely into the blue portal. _T_ and _B_ were left in the vacant spot, burnt and black against the wall.

"How did this man get such technology? Should we be afraid? Why steal a wineglass? More on this story as it develops!"

"I have a feeling we're about to be called in." Natasha pursed her lips thinly. Steve's phone could be heard chiming from the bedroom. He liked to keep the ringer loud in case he misplaced it.

"I have a feeling your right." Steve gave Liberty's knee a light squeeze as he excused himself. He returned to the living room, a frown on his face.

"Fury wants us at the museum to analyze the scene. Suits not required."

"Let's go." Natasha pulled herself effortlessly from the couch. Clint seemed indifferent.

"I don't see why all of us have to go. Stark and Banner are the brains." he drawled.

"The house won't be quiet enough for you, Clint. Pepper and the babies will still be there."

"It's scary you know what I'm thinking."

"It's scarier that you don't think I know what you're thinking by now." she countered.

Steve disappeared to dress appropriately. When he came back Natasha and Clint were waiting at the door. "Sorry about leaving," he mumbled apologetically to Liberty. It would've been nice to lounge lazily, knowing they'd been intimate the night before, and indulge in her company. In how it felt to have taken that step and relish how close he felt to her.

"It's fine," she assured, "so long as you come home. Be careful. Please?" Liberty had no superpower. She didn't intend on going. And she had no interest in investigating why something of Hammer's went missing. Her main concern was Steve; they'd just taken a serious step together, and she'd be crushed if he suffered something severe or life-threatening.

Especially when she knew last night meant a lot to both of them. A man of the '40s didn't give away his affections so easily, after all. "I'll come home." Steve pecked her on the lips. "Soldier's honor." she gave his hand a squeeze.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I have red in my ledger, but there's about to be green on your floor. Just so you know." stated Natasha boldly. Clint grinned. Steve snorted.

* * *

It had been a little over an hour since Steve left. Liberty took a shower, changed into fresh clothes, and was brushing her hair when her cellphone buzzed. It was easy to forget she had one after the fire took everything else. She vaguely remembered putting it in her pocket the day Steve led her to Stark Tower. She'd hoped someone would call and claim him – and save her from posting flyers – but no one did.

"Dally!" Liberty quickly combed through the knotted patch before snatching up her cellphone. He'd left her multiple text messages since last night. Was he just now catching wind of the fire drama? And Caroline's insults? She wondered what made him pop up so suddenly, but willingly discarded the curiosity to be able to hear from him.

**Dally: **Hey Libby, how are you? Heard you found a superhero :D. And you were worried about finding a boyfriend! Congrats ;) (I'm not going to talk about the fire because that seriously bums me. You could've been hurt! But you weren't, so it's okay. It's not even worth talking about ;D. The important stuff is safe :).)

**Dally: **Usually you get back to me quicker. Are you okay?

**Dally: **Still haven't heard from you, Libby. Is your boyfriend secretly a super villain? Are you being held against your will? Or does he just have a fetish?

**Dally**: Look, I don't know why you're away from your phone, but you might want to see this. Click the link. I'm guessing you and this guy are hitting it off (based on the press stuff, you go girl!) but I don't want to see you get hurt.

Her phone couldn't accurately display websites, so she decided to use Steve's computer. Liberty was mildly surprised that he had one, but guessed that was SHIELD's doing. He left it unlocked – did he not know how to set a password? she wondered – which worked in her favor. She typed in the link Dallas sent her, reading over it several times before clicking "ENTER". It led her to a Steve Rogers website.

It looked to be fan-made, but was regularly updated. Hundreds of Captain America fans submitted vintage photos, newspaper articles, and personal stories about the man he'd been in the '40s. Thumbnails of pictures and titles of stories were in the left-side margin. Newspaper articles were on the right, lined up chronologically after the one readily displayed. **Captain's Carter Dead at 96**, said the article.

"Captain's…Carter?" Liberty felt something rip in her. It was deep and quick, like a stab. Steve had someone before her? _Of course he did! He was born in a different time!_ said the little voice of sensibility in her mind. Logic or not, the discovery still hurt.

Multiple people had something to say about Peggy Carter. She was a sassy thing, devoted to her position in the army, wasn't afraid to knock men on their ass, and rarely missed a shot when firing a gun. By all accounts, she seemed impressive. Pictures accompanied the article; most were black and white. Peggy had red hair – according to comments – styled in loose waves and partial curls; it was clean and of decent length for a woman in the army.

Her skin was pale and remarkably clear and clean for a woman surrounded by men, sweat, and dirt. She typically sported bold lipstick and hints of eyeliner (or so Liberty inferred from the pictures). Peggy Carter had a serious face bearing hints of femininity. Not unlike Natasha, in Liberty's opinion. Browsing the related photos brought her to newer ones of color, likely taken when society gained the technology.

Liberty felt like she'd been punched in the gut. This woman could've easily been her relative. Maybe one of her mother's sisters. Their hair was the same deep, rich red. Her eyes were blue, though darker than Liberty's.

She and Peggy both had high cheekbones. Peggy's face seemed a bit rounder than hers towards the chin, though. That was a minor difference in the glaring similarities she saw. The ache returned, strong enough to sour her stomach. Had Steve fallen in love with her because…because she looked like Peggy?

_I don't want to know,_ Liberty swore as tears began to bead in her eyes. But she did. She _had_ to know now! Was their relationship based on a fluke? Had it been _her_ Steve thought about this whole time, or Peggy?

Trying to assuage the ache by pointing out that it could be a coincidence wasn't helping. The shock was too strong. The similarities didn't help, either. Liberty was beginning to doubt herself, doubt Steve, and the relationship. What if it _hadn't_ been a coincidence?

What if Steve sought her out because she resembled Peggy? Oh god…that would _kill_ her. She'd trusted him to a degree no one else was allowed. Liberty _gave_ herself to him!

She had to get out of here. The apartment was too small. She needed time alone. Space to think. And, personally, she didn't want to be home when Steve returned. There was a chance she wouldn't like what he said once Peggy came up.

"I know what I'll do," Liberty breathed steadily and wiped partially formed tears away. "I'll stay with Dally for a bit and clear my head. I'm too emotional right now. We'd probably end up arguing at this rate." she mumbled to herself. Liberty didn't really want to fight with Steve, not about his past. Not when she wasn't even born then. Intellectually, she had little ground to be mad – it was all before she'd even been thought of!

Emotionally, she couldn't help it. She loved Steve, and trusted him. He was known for honesty and kindness. It was that same trust that led her to believe he'd talk earnestly after coming home. In respect for that honesty, she'd make herself approachable and ready for the impending conversation.

Dally always helped calm her nerves before big events.

**Me: **Thanks for the heads up, Dally. I really appreciate it. Do you think I could come over? I'd like a familiar place to clear my head.

**Dally: **Anytime, Libby. Get over here! I've got a quart of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a season of _Glee_ recorded ;). You remember where I am, right? In the apartment with Richard? 32669 Regalia Rd., 6B (on the corner of 7th and 12th).

**Me: **I'm on my way :D. Thanks Dally.

**Dally:** See you soon, Libby!

* * *

_Steve,_

_I found out about Peggy. No, I didn't snoop. I wouldn't dare invade your privacy like that. To be honest, I'm a little hurt (but I don't blame you because that's before I was even thought of. And she's pretty…in a serious way). We look a lot alike, and I'm beginning to wonder if you love ME or if you love me because I look like HER._

_I'm not really mad. I'm just…it's a lot to take in. I'm confused, and I don't know how to feel. I've gone to Dally's so I can clear my head. Be back soon!_

_Love,_

_Liberty._

_P.S: If you're worried, I have my phone. It may die, though, because it was left at Stark Tower. Dally lives at 32669 Regalia Rd., 6B (on the corner of 7th and 12th)._

_(Just in case)_

_Left at 11:15 PM._

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise!" grimaced Tony. That seemed to be going around lately. Caroline's stunt had seriously pissed in the Avengers' community-sized bowl of cornflakes.

"Shut _up_, Tony." Steve barely thought twice about crumpling the note. He wasn't mad at her, but at Tony. And himself. A chance to be alone with Liberty – away from the tower – seemed to be the perfect way to bring up his past. The folder he kept it in, but other things transpired.

It was still sitting in his duffle bag, he remembered clearly.

"Hey, don't mind me! I'm just here to update your computer." Tony held his hands up as he settled at the device. It was warm, and in sleep mode, but no open windows greeted him. If Steve was going to use his apartment more – and he would after what Clint and Natasha teased him about this morning, Tony knew – the tech needed to be secure.

"I should've told her!" Steve slammed his fist into the refrigerator. "Who told her, anyways? No one had the right to tell her but me!"

"It wasn't up, Cap." Tony swore.

"It was…it was probably that _Dally_ man." hissed Steve in a brief moment of jealousy. He found it odd that she was going to Dally's place. Why _Dally_? What made _Dally_ so special?

JARVIS was up and running in a matter of minutes. To ease his friend's ache, Tony asked JARVIS to run a location scan on Dallas Narcozi.

"I can't, sir." said the AI.

"Why not?" snapped Steve angrily.

"Dallas "Dally" Narcozi had been dead for three years, sir. He committed suicide, apparently."

"If she's going to Dally's house for Dally, and Dally's dead, then who's at the house?" Tony queried smartly. He was clearly disturbed, but old habits die hard. Especially in times of panic when they acted as a buffer.

"Suit up." Steve whispered with wide eyes, barreling out the door.


	15. On Deaf Ears

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **I hope you've enjoyed the story because it's steadily drawing to a close.

Thanks to Drachegirl14, starkassemblyrequired, and miller330 for reviewing.

There is no planned sequel, though the idea for Liberty being thrown back in time to fall in love with Steve during WWII is still on the table. I'll gauge reader interest before attempting that. May take a break from Fanfiction to focus on school and to write original stuff. The note-brainwash stuff was made up for story purposes.

* * *

Fourteen: On Deaf Ears

She knocked on Dallas' apartment to announce her arrival. Liberty had interrupted Katie enough in her lifetime, and didn't wish to catch Dallas and Richard in the act. No questionable noises were coming from behind the door, though, so she assumed it was safe to enter. It had been left open, anyways, and slid back smoothly after her knocking ceased. Dallas liked to surround himself with classical music or television when he wasn't playing his prized piano.

Liberty heard nothing as she stepped into the apartment. That was unusual. "Dallas?" she called, shutting the door behind her.

"In the kitchen, Libby! Come get some ice cream and we'll dish on your situation." he invited. She smiled, feeling a bit foolish for her earlier apprehension. Dallas, like herself, was not one for unnecessary luxury. He had standard pieces of furniture such as a couch, television, coffee table, decorative stands, and area rugs, but they were few in number. The younger Narcozi brother preferred to buy less in favor of higher quality.

She padded quietly across a red area rug, wove between the couch and coffee table, and took a left at the oak drawer stand. Liberty paused. Dallas was not in the kitchen. The man looked like Dallas, but that was not Dallas. Her only hint and biggest clue: the tape recorder clutched confidently in one hand.

His fingers slowly lifted from the line of buttons. Something primal and wordless told her to run, igniting her muscles with one jolt. Liberty spun around, blindly shoved the oak drawer stand into the kitchen entrance, and took off down the first hallway she saw. She turned into the first room available, slammed the door, and locked it. That would hardly buy her time against Dallas' brother, who she clearly remembered had talents concerning fire and mischief, but it would be enough.

If she was going to die today or go down fighting – which she would – Liberty wanted to apologize to Steve first. The oak wood drawer clattered loudly against the floor. Its echo ran down the hallway to tell her Darren was taking his time just for the hell of it. She didn't have Steve's number, but knew Tony's. While most considered it foolish, Tony opted to give his number to the public in the event of emergency lines being flooded.

Historically, it made sense. There had been times of great need when people couldn't get through to law enforcement or operators due to sheer call volume. JARVIS did well to screen calls by offering an automated questionnaire, or so Pepper told her. Liberty only hoped JARVIS had a special procedure for people who actually _lived_ at the tower. _"You have reached Stark Tower, home of Mr. and Mrs. Tony Stark and the Avengers." _said the AI, _"If you are calling to request a special appearance for an event, press one. If you need immediate assistance due to a natural disaster or inability to reach other officials, please press two. If you are trying to reach Mrs. Stark, press three."_

She pressed two, holding her breath. Why couldn't she hear anything outside? What was he doing? Where _was _he? The bathroom had no windows, so scaling the building to retrieve her was impossible.

_"If you are trying to reach Tony Stark, press one. If you are trying to reach Steve Rogers, press two. If-" _Liberty pressed two, yelping when the doorknob began to shiver violently. She heard scraping noises, as if he was trying to cut into it or use something to force it open. Scrambling for further barriers, Liberty snatched towels from the cabinets beneath the sink and stuffed them under the door. Inserting bobby pins into the frame would create further friction and make it harder to open, should he unlock it. Arming herself with a can of hair spray and aerosol deodorant, Liberty cradled the phone between her neck and shoulder.

The beep finally sounded. "Steve," Liberty's heart thundered. Her panic was apparent, even to her, and she hoped she wasn't squeaking. "I don't know if you're there, but if you are, I'm sorry!"

"OPEN THE DOOR! I WAS TOLD TO RETRIEVE YOU. HAMMER DIDN'T SAY YOU HAD TO BE FULLY FUNCTIONAL, OR UNINJURED! AS LONG AS I DON'T HURT YOUR THROAT AND YOUR FACE, I'M CLEARED TO DO WHATEVER THE _HELL_ I WANT! IT'S YOUR CHOICE!" roared Darren.

Liberty felt tears prick her eyes. What would he do? Stab her? Punch her? Drag her by her hair or – god forbid – rape her? She pressed her cheek harder into the cellphone, reminding herself that she was leaving Steve a message. Maybe her _last _message.

"Steve," her voice trembled, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get jealous, and I know that you would've told me. I'm sorry I walked off. I wasn't mad, I swear. I love you!

"I love you _so _much and I'm _sorry_! I—ARGH!" she grunted as Darren threw his weight into the door. Or kicked it. The force was enough to render the lock useless, and Liberty was sent against the marble sink. Her phone clattered into the sink. Fight or flight instincts manipulated her body, causing Liberty to raise her arms as Dallas kicked the door to loosen the blockage.

_TSSST! _Darren lurched back, eyes burning with hair spray. Liberty took the opportunity to kick him in the groin. He sank to his knees, screaming and scrubbing furiously at his face. She elbowed him in the ear while passing, abandoning her phone for the chance to escape alive. Discarding the aerosol deodorant, Liberty seized the doorknob and ripped it open.

And collided with a chest that rivaled Steve's. The built man was dressed in a fine black tuxedo, and marched forward remorselessly. Liberty felt like she was being forced back into the lion's den. He curled a tanned, rough hand around her wrist. She instinctively raised the hair spray, but he grabbed that wrist, too, and twisted it before she could depress the nozzle.

She howled out in pain, able to _hear _her bones creaking in protest. He continued to apply pressure, watching her squirm. Liberty head butted him, but it did no good. The man seemed to know she'd try to attack next with her feet because he stepped on her left one, leaning into it. It was completely pinned, and the sparks of pain ascending her fibula and tibia were enough to make her knees tremble.

She couldn't decide if her toes or wrist would give out first. Tears of pain welled in her eyes, but Liberty refused to let them fall. If she was going to die today, she was going to die with dignity. Her father had boxed as a career, and she inherited that talent. What was a little pain and sacrifice when compared to her life? A broken wrist and toes would heal. Dying could not be repaired.

Poised to fight back, ready to break her own wrist for the sake of a punch, Liberty began to twist. She snarled, baring her teeth. "Stop." commanded Darren before she could sink her teeth into the man's fist. "Just hold her. Don't break anything. She'll need to be able to walk for the wedding, and Hammer won't be able to put a ring on a broken finger."

"Wedding?" snorted Liberty in disbelief. The man spun her around at Darren's request. "You think I'm getting married to _Hammer_? I'd rather have you shoot me!" she spat.

"That would be easier," agreed Darren flatly. "But that's a punishable offense. Hammer's doing this the _legal _way."

"The hell he is! You can't get married without waiting twenty-four hours for a marriage license, and there's _no way _he can keep me from Steve for a whole day." Liberty smirked. Had they not thought of that? Even money couldn't circumvent the law where necessary documents were concerned. Darren merely smiled, but that was enough to chill her blood.

"You can get this little thing called a judicial waiver." he unbuttoned his suit slightly, holding out a bundle of papers. "It nullifies the need for a twenty-four hour wait period under special circumstances."

"What circumstances?" she growled.

"Caroline wants to see her granddaughter get married before advanced pancreatic cancer takes her life." said Darren in a falsely pitiable voice.

"She doesn't _have _advanced pancreatic cancer!" snarled Liberty.

He smiled. "She does now." Darren unfolded the papers, wanting her to see pricey forgeries Hammer bought. It had taken days for some of Hammer's best men to make. They spent hours checking and rechecking until they were certain all noticeable signs of forgery had been covered. Another coconspirator, Time Bomb, moved the wineglass while Hammer searched for someone who looked enough like Liberty to provide a fake signature.

The quickness and accuracy in which she copied Liberty's signature earned her three thousand dollars. So had playing the part of a reluctant bride. Hammer was aware that the media painted Liberty and Steve as a couple. She would be unwilling to marry him for real, he knew, so her imitator had to be that way, also. "Well," Liberty floundered hopelessly, feeling inescapably trapped, "Hammer can't leave New York! He's under house arrest!" she crowed triumphantly.

And that was a valid point. What kind of priest was going to allow an in-house wedding? Hammer wouldn't _dare _stay in New York because the Avengers would catch wind too soon.

"Those ankle monitors fit suspiciously well on strays." mused Darren.

"Should I take her to the van?" asked his assistant.

"In a second." Darren eyed Liberty smugly. He wanted to bask in this. This annoying little redhead was the key to financial stability for him. After being disowned by his parents, and rejected from SHIELD, Darren had few places to go. Growing up as the son of rich parents meant not _needing _vital skills for the real world.

This would set him up for life, though. Hammer promised to pay him handsomely for his troubles. He'd be paid again – with part of Liberty's inheritance, and her soon-to-be life insurance policy – to keep quiet if the marriage didn't work out. "That's for hitting Hammer." hissed Darren, socking her in the gut. Liberty gave a sharp wheeze and folded at the waist, unaccustomed to being hit by a male, much less at such a close range.

He'd hit her hard enough to mottle her vision with spots. Her stomach ached instantly, pulsing painfully as she struggled to breathe. "Now walk." demanded Darren, grabbing a fistful of her red curls, "and so help me _god _if you don't I'll hit you worse." he swore. She staggered along, mostly supported by the massive assistant as Darren crept behind them. Darren stuffed himself into the driver's seat, leaving Liberty at the meaty helper's mercy.

The man made quick work of restraining Liberty, cuffing her feet and arms in chains made for prison inmates. This had been pre-planned, she noticed, because he pulled duct tape from the seat pocket. She tried to slap him away, to turn her head, but there was little space to fend him off. Not when she couldn't adequately move her arms and legs without getting tangled. Liberty squealed in protest as he grabbed her jaw hard enough to leave a bruise before smacking a piece of tape on her lips.

She felt her teeth collide and her lip pulse sorely a few seconds after his hand retreated. Liberty tasted no blood, but knew he'd struck her with considerable force. Satisfied that she was quiet and taken care of, Darren made the necessary phone call. "We're on our way." he assured, hanging up shortly after. Darren flicked his eyes to the review mirror, eyeing a pissed Liberty.

He chuckled. Easiest one hundred grand he ever made.

* * *

Hammer pulled confidently at the lapels of his black tux. With his top scientists and mechanics transforming his roof into a soundstage of sorts, there was nothing to worry about. Unlike people, science was reliable. Science was always there. The magnificent crystal wineglass he'd created was sitting in the center of the roof, as Time Bomb promised it would be.

He'd paid the man for his trouble and sent him off to the cathedral in Las Vegas where he and Liberty would soon be wed. Time Bomb's main motivation for helping was a chance to avenge his grandfather. Or great-grandfather…Hammer didn't really care, and hadn't paid attention. They found a common enemy in Captain America, and wanted to make him suffer; that was all that mattered. "After today I will have the one thing my father never did." mused Justin as he gazed into the glossy wineglass to smooth his hair down.

"What's that, sir?" inquired one worker who was close enough to hear him. Just turned partially, smiling at him.

"A Callari. My father tried to marry Liberty's mother before meeting mine, but she refused. A few months later she married Alexander. It stayed with him until his death, but I don't know if it's because she rejected him or wounded his pride." he shrugged.

"Um…congratulations?"

"Thank you." accepted Hammer dryly. The employee swiftly returned to his work. A halo of stacked speakers lined the wineglass, strategically placed behind amplifiers. It looked like a fairly vulnerable setup, but wasn't. Hammer had installed multiple force field generators Whiplash made before _that _scheme fell apart.

His company roof simply seemed like a mess of electronics. The arrangement was quite sensible. Four microphones dangled in the center of the wineglass, supported by metal rods and black cords originating from speaker mounts. Those microphones would repeat Liberty's pitch, vibrating the wineglass.

Two automatic tracers, similar to a robotic vacuum, would then turn on and circle the rim while dispensing minute traces of water. Activating the natural slip-stick mechanism of the wineglass would keep his creation running if Tony destroyed his technology. Hammer wouldn't need a lot of time, but he'd certainly distract them long enough to get a decent head start. The protective force field generators would simply prevent them from shattering the wineglass right away. Using the speakers and amplifiers to share the pitch was just plain _fun_.

Hammer discovered that humans could be sent into an involuntary state of absentmindedness if they heard a certain pitch. He intended to broadcast that pitch and throw the city into mayhem. There would be traffic pileups from hell! Pedestrians would be stuck in an endless walk, trying to cross streets without realizing they were in mortal peril. People cooking at home would burn their food and catch their kitchens on fire!

The Avengers would have their hands _full_!

By the time they sorted through the traffic jams he'd already be wed. He doubted even _they'd _be able to withstand the pitch. They might, though. Tony always seemed to have the better toys, and Coriander could destroy tech rather easily. His phone rang for the second time.

_"We're here. Thirtieth floor, as you asked."_

"I'll be there momentarily." Justin shut his phone. "You'll be finished within the hour, I trust?"

"Yes sir!" replied all workers affirmatively.

"Good." he took the elevator to the eighteenth floor. In the rare event that a working parent couldn't find a daycare for their child, his company offered one. It gave him a slight competitive edge and allure over his corporate enemies. Liberty may refuse him, but she wouldn't dare refuse a child. Not for their safety.

On any given day there were at least eight children in the sprawling playroom. It was essentially a toy store for the children. He had a rainbow of furniture sprinkled evenly around the bits of carpet that weren't covered in by large foam puzzle pieces. His eyes fell on a girl with dark brown hair and stormy blue eyes. She wore a floral dress and colored away mindlessly in red.

"Hi." Justin smiled, striding over casually to see her version of a pony. She looked up and smiled brightly, displaying dimples in her chubby cheeks.

"I know you!" she grinned toothily. "You're Mi'dder Hammer! My mommy works for you!"

"Your mommy _does_ work for me!" he chuckled, crouching to maintain eye contact. "What's your name?"

"Cindy Berks."

"Would you like to see someone very special, Cindy?"

"Who is it?"

"It's a _surprise_!" teased Justin.

"Is it someone famous?" she pressed, her _s_ coming out as a hiss because of missing teeth and gaps.

"Maybe." he smirked. Her eyes sparkled.

"Is it a princess?"

"She will be. She has to go get ready for her important princess ball."

"I want to meet the princess!"

"Well, c'mon!" Justin offered his hand, which she gladly took. Most of the kids were too preoccupied to notice Cindy leave. The caretaker noticed, but Justin shut her up with a venomous look. Hammer took her to an elevator, and indulged in the perfection of his plan for a quiet moment. He pressed the button for the thirtieth floor.

Sincere there was time to kill, he'd talk to the little girl. "Do you know your numbers, Cindy?"

"Some of them. I know how to count to ten!" she flashed him another toothy grin.

"You must be so smart! How old are you? Can you find that number on one of these buttons?" he waved a finger at the three rows of buttons. The earliest numbers started at the bottom right. Floors with larger numbers were reserved for the second and third row. She shyly pointed to four. "Fantastic!" Hammer smiled.

And it really was. Cindy was at a young age where emotions came suddenly and strongly. There was no way Liberty could deny an impressionable child, much less one who thought they were in honest danger. The elevator chimed, causing the doors to part. His naïve leverage grabbed his hand excitedly and raced out, trying to drag him to the princess.

The thirtieth floor of Hammer Industries was an audio room. It was typically used for PR purposes, drafting statements, and the like. Today it would be used to record the pitch he'd discovered. This room was directly linked to the rooftop microphones. Liberty sat unhappily, though no longer chained, in a chair.

Darren and his accomplice had a firm grip on either shoulder. "You're the princess from TV!" exclaimed Cindy gleefully, clapping her hands. "I saw you with dat superhero man!" her _s_'s whistled as she spoke. Liberty was both shocked and disgusted, and hoped she wasn't making a nasty face for the child. Hammer was despicable!

She smelled a dirty trick in the room.

"That's the TV princess!" Hammer nodded his head. "But before you can meet her she has to do something for me."

"What's that?" Liberty and the little girl asked simultaneously. Hammer flicked his eyes to Liberty, smiling.

"She has to sing. If not, something bad will happen." warned Hammer. Cindy gasped.

"Something bad?! Is she gonna get put-ted to sleep like Snow White?"

"No, but you will." Hammer jerked his head towards the little girl, rousing Darren's help from Liberty's side. A gun was calmly, indifferently pointed to her tiny head. Cindy blinked, obviously not expecting that. She knew guns were bad; her daddy said they made loud noises and could hurt people if they weren't careful. The little girl began to panic.

Had she done something _wrong_? All she wanted to do was meet the princess! Confused and scared, she started to cry. Liberty's heart broke as the tiny fists rubbed at equally tiny eyes. "Hammer you're a slimy bastard!" Liberty spat.

"Tell the princess to sing, Cindy, or the bad thing will happen."

"S-s-si-iing!" sobbed the little girl. Her pale skin was beginning to redden due to the stress. She sniffed crazily, nose running like a faucet.

"I'll do it." Liberty shot up, overpowering Darren with sheer nerves and adrenaline. "Just don't hurt the little girl. There's no reason for that, Hammer. You _know _that, Hammer, and you know better!"

"Nice to see you cooperating. Seems this marriage is going to go just fine." he grinned wickedly, waving her over to an enclosed booth where a microphone waited. A sound technician waited nervously by the controls.

"I wah-wa-want m-m-my mo-mo-mommy!" Cindy wailed. Her steely blue eyes were glassy with tears.

"I'll take you to your mommy after the princess sings, Cindy." promised Hammer.

"This is _ridiculous_, Hammer, take her back _now_!"

"I will." he picked absently at one lapel. "That's Michael over there in that seat. He's the soundboard operator. Give him your highest D, F sharp, and A flat. Sing the notes in that order, and take his cues on when to start and end. Understand?"

"Yes." snarled Liberty. "While I do that, you take the girl back where she belongs. Unharmed, or I swear to god I'll de-ball you at the _goddamned _alter!"

"You're going to be so much fun during the honeymoon." Hammer chuckled, plucking at a curl by her ear. Liberty growled from the back of her throat.

"Come here, Cindy. Come say goodbye to the princess." she wiped her little eyes. The little girl sniffed as she approached.

"Guh-goodbye, princess."

"Goodbye, sweetheart." Liberty sat down and spoke to her sweetly. Kids liked it when people were on their level. She needed a friend after that hell of a scare. "It was very nice to make your acquaintance today." smiled Liberty, using the fanciest language and most refined voice she could muster off the top of her head. Cindy grinned slightly.

"I'd curtsey, but I have no skirt." Liberty told her, pretending to look around for clothes she wasn't wearing. "I had one, but that mean 'ol wizard made it invisible." she pouted.

"A mean ol' wizard?" parroted Cindy. "What did he look like?"

"A lot like Mr. Hammer, actually." stated Liberty icily. Justin merely hummed at her joke. He was hardly offended. That wasn't the worst thing he'd ever been called.

Cindy looked nervously at Justin. "Princesses aren't supposed to be with the bad guys. What are you gonna do, princess?"

"I don't _know_!" Liberty crossed her arms thoughtfully. "What would you do?"

"Get an adult." mumbled Cindy.

"That's smart, but I don't think they'd help me. All the adults here work for the mean ol' wizard."

"Even my mommy?"

"Probably, even if she doesn't mean to."

"And you won't tell any adults, will you Cindy? Bad things would happen if you did. To the princess _and _your mommy."

"I won't tell!" Cindy quickly promised.

"Good girl." Hammer complimented, patting her head. She shied away from the touch, but his pats still landed.

"Is someone going to come rescue you, princess?"

"Maybe. I hope so."

"All princesses get saved by somebody. Snow White got-ted saved by the prince when he kissed her. And Cinderella got-ted saved by the mices. You need a prince, princess!"

"I got something better than a prince." Liberty eyed Hammer coolly. His lips twitched in a half-sneer.

"What?"

"I got a soldier coming for me, Cindy. And not just any soldier, either. He's a _captain_."

"It's time for you to go, Cindy. Let's take you back to the daycare." Hammer grabbed her gently by her arm, not wanting to leave a bruise.

"No." Cindy shook her head. "Mommy first. I went pee-pee and I need new underwears."

"Fine, mommy then."

"Bye-bye, princess!"

"Farewell!" Liberty waved, scowling as Hammer pointed to the booth. _What does singing have to do with anything_? she wondered. _And why just three notes_? Michael cued her and Liberty sang with as much air and volume as she could conjure.

* * *

"There's a message waiting for you, sir." JARVIS informed as Steve did a headcount and made sure everyone was going towards Tony's jet. Tony had experience with Hammer, and knew he wouldn't stay in Manhattan if his ankle monitor could be ditched. Bruce was the last one to the jet, a duffle bag of medical supplies at the ready. He'd learned from Coriander's near-death experience, and had packed everything he could think of. From bandages to tourniquets, plastic bags, and stitches, Bruce basically cleaned out the tower's medical supply.

"It can wait." Steve told the AI.

"You may want to hear it, sir."

"It can _wait_, JARVIS."

"Sir, it's from Liberty." Steve paused. "Play it." he demanded. Did he really want to hear it? He didn't know. It was probably a forced ransom call or something equally horrible.

Still, he had to know _something_. Steve didn't _care _that she was mad and hurt about Peggy – okay, yes, he _did_ – he just wanted to know she was _alive_! "Play only her parts." added Steve, knowing JARVIS had an automatic dialogue where tower phone calls were concerned. She hadn't tried to call his cellphone, probably because she didn't know it. Her only option was to call the tower directly.

"Yes sir."

_"Steve…" _her voice was high pitched. His heart constricted in tandem with his throat. She sounded so _scared_! Liberty's voice had that faint rasping quality most people got while trying to speak through tears. Steve wanted to vomit, and keep vomiting until he wasn't coherent enough to do so anymore.

_"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get jealous, and I know that you would've told me. I'm sorry I walked off. I wasn't mad, I swear. I love you!_

_"I love you _so_ much and I'm _sorry_! I—ARGH!"_

Several muted noises followed. He was able to recognize one male scream, and that gave him hope. His heart fluttered warmly and Steve swallowed a painful lump lodged in his throat. She still loved him…even after being mad about Peggy. Instead of calling 911, she'd called him.

She put _him _first. "I love you, too." whispered Steve to the air. He gripped his shield with renewed determination. "Move, move, move!" hollered Steve, running to the jet. Tony started the engines before he even made it, and Steve had to run for the door as it started down the runway. That was irrelevant, though; they were in flight and going to get some answers.

"Put us down on the ground!" directed Coriander in a commanding voice. Her tone dithered, cracking in panic.

"What?!" Steve turned to gauge her seriousness. She was frowning. The green marks beneath her left eye shone brightly.

"Do it, Rogers! We're about to hit some serious interference!" she foretold. Gritting his teeth, Tony and Steve landed the plane. Tony forced an emergency landing at the end of the runway. "Activate any reflective sound defense you have, Tony!"

"It's coming." murmured Bruce as he winced. Hulk's ears could pick it up. Tony hastily flipped switches and tapped buttons. It was high-pitched and consistent, but in its infancy. Bruce was reminded of the sonic cannons, but this pitch was far gentler than the army had been, and seemed to be made of three notes blended into one.

The sound made his toes curl. It wormed into his ear effortlessly, despite the jet exterior, and he felt himself detaching from logical thoughts. Calculations concerning pitch and frequency faded away as he fell into a nirvana-like state. "These are made to combat Tinnitus and Mr. Banner on his _bad _days." informed JARVIS as Tony tossed the headphones around the interior. Coriander put hers on first, then applied Bruce's.

His wide pupils shrank back to normal size as he regained mobility. Bruce felt stiff and dazed, like he'd been sitting for years even though it'd been mere seconds. "Activate these measures in the tower, JARVIS. Keep Pep and the kids safe."

"Yes sir."

Bruce squeezed Coriander's hand thankfully as the waves hit the jet. They could actually _see _the waves of vibrations sweeping through the sky. It shook the jet like a marble in a tin can, but they were physically deaf to the noise. Tony motioned to the left ear of the headphones, turning his head so they could see the button. He pushed it, giving the Avengers their first real sense of sound.

"We can communicate through this button. Press it, hold it, and push down to keep yourself locked into the frequency. If you don't want to hear everyone talk, well, only push it when you want to say something. And Thor, INSIDE VOICE."

"Ay, friend Stark." Thor agreed bashfully. He was honestly working on that. Midgardians were as quiet as they were petty when compared to an Asgardian. It was still embarrassing to be admonished, though.

"This should be over quick." Clint snorted. "We can just follow the waves back to the source."

Tony and Steve started up the jet again. "I doubt it." mumbled Tony as he eyed the destination. "Hammer always fights dirty."

"What's our plan?" Natasha queried.

"Smash and crash." Captain offered. Time was of the essence. "We break the wineglass, we stop the noise."

"I'll take out the speakers." Coriander said.

"And I shall handle the wineglass." Thor declared.

"And _I _shall land the plane." Tony muttered to himself. Steve elbowed him unhappily.

Bruce, Tony, and Coriander got off first. Tony lowered his faceplate and went airborne with Coriander. Hulk took over Bruce's form, unable to mourn the busted headphones, and ran straight for the wineglass. He was thrown back by a massive force field. The force field crackled brightly, shimmering in the noontime sun.

Thor threw Mjölnir, but the hammer returned to him. "The force fields are coming from outlets." Natasha pointed to the far left. Clint shot an arrow at it. The device had a defense mechanism, charring anything that came close enough to damage it. It resembled Stark's repulsor technology, but emitted the wrong color.

Clint mapped out more outlets, pausing as he peered over the rooftop. Thick lines of crooked, ruined cars were already apparent. Pedestrians crossed aimlessly between sidewalks. It was as if Manhattan and its pedestrians had been taken of their usual track. One curl of black smoke slithered into the sky, a smear against the blue.

He pulled himself back before the heady vibrations could send him over the edge. His ears were safe, but everything else wasn't. The vibrations shook him mercilessly, stealing his coordination and sending his teeth chattering. Clint had already bitten his tongue twice. Coriander tried to directly confront the speakers, but couldn't.

The vibrations were strong enough to offset the tempo of her wings. Getting too close made the vibrations almost maddening. It was like trying to force two similar magnets together. Hulk was especially sensitive to the noise. Thor summoned lightening by one of the outlets, aware that his gift was stronger.

It sputtered and popped, dying. Encouraged, Tony fired at the right-side outlet. That one died, too, and it made him suspicious. This was _too _easy. Thor sent Mjölnir through the speakers, killing them until the noise dulled.

Hulk had been shouting and lumbering around crookedly like an ape in anguish. The green giant shook his head, clearing the noise from his ears. He snarled at the amplifiers and leapt mightily in their direction. Taking his time, stomping them down into nothingness, Hulk finished off the amplifiers. It took him almost fifteen minutes, but he quashed them all into scrap metal.

"Something's wrong," said Tony, Iron Man helmet breaking apart slightly to take pressure from the headphones. "It's still vibrating."

Thor terminated the last two outlets, crippling them like nails beneath his hammer. "SLIP-STICK!" roared Hulk. "BANNER SAY SLIP-STICK!"

"I was just thinking that myself." Tony nodded.

"Slip-stick? What is that?"

"Ever made a wineglass hum, Cap?"

"I don't think so."

"The slip-stick property is what makes it ring." Natasha informed. "It's the secondary source of the vibration." she deduced. Thinking the imminent danger was gone, Coriander flew towards one of the spinning items. Most of Hammer's design seemed to be focused on exterior repellant; it meant he likely didn't focus on the interior. Tony told her countless stories of how sloppy and sad he was for a brilliant man.

He had the money, but never the better toys. She yelped when one running device elicited a high-voltage shock. The shock carried up her arm and caused her wings to fail briefly as her brain recovered from the hit. Her Chitauri DNA prevented her from dying, but it was still a strong hit. Hulk bellowed; the noise dissolved into a worried croon as he lumbered over to his wife.

The smell of singed flesh hung in the air. Coriander's body trembled, muscles and skin gradually returning to normal. She was incapacitated for nearly eight minutes. Clint shot an arrow, cursing when little robotic arms caught and snapped it. Steve pulled his arm back, prepared to throw his shield.

"Don't! It's made of vibranium! It'll either ride the waves out into the city or you'll combat the frequency and make it worse by creating a mixed pitch." Tony held out his arm. Steve hesitated. What was he supposed to do, then? He needed a way to express the hot rage clawing through him. It was excruciating to keep it locked inside.

"What are we supposed to do if it kills any approach?" Clint grimaced.

"Working on that." Tony used JARVIS to scan the rooftop and remaining equipment.

"Those microphones feed into floor thirty, sir."

"Barton, Romanoff, head to the thirtieth floor.

"On it." they bolted away like black-clad gazelle, easily finding the elevator.

"Hold the door!" ordered Captain. Maybe he'd get his answers now.

* * *

Hammer kept his employees well cushioned. While inside the building they were safe. Darren stood calmly by the large window, watching vibrational waves sweep over the city with interest. In a mere three hours he'd be getting one hundred thousand dollars, and something to hold over Hammer's head for the rest of his life. It was the highlight of his day and, after retrieving the nuisance, he deserved a quiet moment.

"Brandy?" he offered the flask to Michael.

"No thanks." Michael declined, not one to drink. He wasn't fond of celebrating something he'd been forced to assist in, either.

"You sure? It's sweet. Low proof." Darren swished the flask.

"Why? Need to be sober for a getaway?" Steve stormed into the room, murderous desire twisting his masked face. Darren turned, unfazed by their sudden entrance. He wasn't afraid of people in _costumes_. Any information they forced out of him would be irrelevant; Liberty was already on Hammer's private jet with the wedding dress and several armed guards. Two vans' worth of bodyguards were following the jet, pretending the kidnap her grandmother, cousin, and aunt (for the sake of an alibi, as it would look suspicious if they came willingly).

"I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Rogers. I was invited to the wedding, but gracefully declined." Darren smirked. Steve stopped cold, stomach quivering like Darren had walloped him.

"Wedding?"

"She's marrying Hammer."

"Not willingly." Steve narrowed his eyes. He knew that. Liberty would rather _die _than marry Hammer. "She'd rather die."

"She will if she doesn't comply." Daren took a swig of his flask.

"You're awful confident for a man standing before two assassins and a super soldier." Natasha observed.

"I get paid either way, babe. This isn't my problem." Darren smirked. "However, if you _really _want to know, I'd be willing to negotiate." his eyes flicked up and down her black leather attire.

"Fine. You keep your penis, and we get the answer." Natasha offered. Steve couldn't help the maliciously amused grin that spread across his lips.

"Or, you tell us and we'll talk to a judge about a reduced sentence. Maybe life in prison." Steve hissed.

"That, or we can give you an ultimatum." Clint shrugged before knocking an arrow. "The answer for your life. Can't spend that money if you're dead, can you?"

That would be a problem for Darren. He was actually instructed to tell them, but received instruction to play cat and mouse. Justin wanted a sure lead into Las Vegas. Time Bomb, however, demanded a shot at Captain America in return for his services. Darren downed the last of his brandy.

"You won't kill me." he chuckled confidently as he sealed the flask. "You need me for the information."

"Says who?" Natasha glared at him. "What if that guy has the answer, too?" she nodded her head back to Michael. Terrified, Michael was quick to hold up his hands like he'd been caught.

"Don't kill me. I have four kids, three of which are in college!" Clint pointed an arrow at sweaty Michael.

"What do you know?"

"I was just asked to operate the soundboard. I swear."

"Hammer didn't tell you where he was going?" Natasha quizzed skeptically.

"Nope, but ask the little girl."

"What little girl?" Captain demanded, bristling with disgust and hatred. Hammer dragged a _little girl_ into this?

"Shut up, Michael!" snarled Darren. Michael hesitantly gazed between Steve and Darren, trying to decide who was the lesser of two evils. Steve rushed Darren with his shield, throwing the man against the large glass window. There was only one option to pick, now. A thin line of blood followed Darren to the floor as he slumped against the cracked glass.

Michael definitely knew who to answer now. "She's down in the daycare." he gulped.

"Are the children protected like the adults?" inquired Clint.

"No, but they're all accounted for in the daycare." Michael stood. "Come with me. She might open up to you. You look like her father." Natasha gave him a reassuring nod. Clint lowered his bow slightly, one hand wrapped firmly around an arrow as Michael led him out into the hallways. Steve felt the years pass as he waited for the two.

"If it's any consolation," Natasha murmured in the silence, "I think she'll be fine. Remember when she busted Clint's nose?"

"Yeah." Steve grinned fondly. It was a bad thing to smile at, but it comforted him. She was his little soldier through and through. Clint returned without Michael. Rogers and Natasha could only assume it was because he'd given the girl his deflection pieces.

She looked a lot like Clint, from her hair and nose to her eyes. The girl even had the same inquisitive, all-memorizing gaze. Steve knelt to the floor as the little girl let Clint deposit her. She kept a firm hold on his finger. "I seed you on the TV before." the little girl pointed to Steve.

"I am from the TV." Steve nodded. "Do you think you could help me? I'm looking for someone."

"Is it the TV princess?"

"Does she have red hair?"

"Yep."

"And blue eyes?"

"Yep."

"That's my TV princess. Do you know where she went?"

"With the mean ol' wizard. That's what she called Mi'dder Hammer."

"Do you know where Mr. Hammer took her?"

She shrugged. Steve frowned; this was bad, and his lead was proving to be a bust. Darren would be out for a few hours at least. Clint squatted before the little girl. "Did Hammer tell you not to say anything?" reluctantly, she nodded.

"He said he'd hurt mommy and the princess."

"We won't let him." Natasha promised. "We're on our way to beat him up and lock him away for a _very _long time."

"For forever?"

"Pretty much." Natasha nodded.

"And he won't be able to hurt mommy?"

"Nope." Steve shook his head. The girl fiddled with her fingers, shifting from foot to foot.

"You promise?" the look of sheer hope, vulnerability, and trust she gave Steve melted his heart. He couldn't believe Hammer was low enough to endanger a child.

"Soldier's honor, little lady!" Steve chucked her under the chin gently. Her blue eyes seemed to brighten a tad.

"You must be the soldier the princess was talking about! She said one was gonna come and get her from the mean ol' wizard."

"I will. I just need to know where she is. Did Mr. Hammer say anything weird or funny to you before taking you to see your mother?" Steve interrogated nicely. She furrowed her little brows.

"He said him and lots of other evil bad guys were going to a city for bad guys. I remember 'cuz he said I'd see a lot of bad guys if I told. He said they'd come to my house and get me and mommy."

"What city for bad guys?" Natasha pressed curiously. The girl shrugged.

"He said it had lots of sins and it was perfect for bad guys because it was bad, too. Sins are bad. I learned that in church!"

"He's going to Las Vegas." Natasha snapped up, connecting to Tony.

"Thank you for your help." Steve squeezed her tiny hand gently.

"Can I go see mommy now? I don't want to go back to daycare. I want to be with mommy."

"I'll take her." Clint motioned for the little girl. "You get to Banner and Stark."

"We've got problems." said Natasha as she began to destroy the controls. "Traffic pileups are mounting and people are still moving like zombies. Tony's counted eight fires and nine possible cases of drowning in one loop around the city." Steve paused, midway to the door. To help the public, or his girlfriend? Why should there even be a choice?

"Thor, 'Tasha, Cori, and I will stay in the city. People should be returning to normal now that the vibrations are gone. Take Stark and Banner with you." Clint suggested, shifting Cindy to his hip. Thor was more than enough to separate car wreckage. Whirling Mjölnir could probably snuff the fires, too. SHIELD had taught him and Natasha CPR as a basic survival skill. Coriander could help airlift people in Tony's place.

Steve paused, truly touched by his teammates' willingness to stay behind. To attend to the duties he felt consuming him. It was never easy to choose between responsibility and love. He saluted the two gratefully, swallowing another bundle of thickness in his throat. "Tony, start the—"

"Las Vegas, I know. Get your ass down here, Cap. Vegas is almost four hours from here, and that's going at max speed!" Tony informed.

"I'm on my way. Get it running."

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Steve bit back a snippy reprimand. He jogged to the jet. Shards of the large crystal wineglass littered the rooftop. Craters pockmarked the surface, but he didn't know if Hulk or Thor was to blame. Coriander gave Bruce one last kiss before exiting the jet. The dazed doctor was buckled and gripping his medical bag.

Steve settled into the copilot chair. Before Tony engaged in liftoff, Steve smacked his unprotected head. "Don't even," Steve warned. "You know what that was for."

Tony pouted. "I was trying to make you feel better, Steve."

"I'll feel better when I can put my foot in Hammer's ass."

"Strangely, me too! And they said we never get along!" Tony chuckled, trying to make him grin. It was a lame attempt, and didn't work. Steve glared holes through Stark. "Shutting up and flying the jet." Tony muttered.


	16. (Superhero) Wedding Crashers

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to miller330, Midnight Chamber, and Maymayliu for reviewing the story since I last updated.

This has taken some time to get out, simply because I need the energy to write. And the motivation. I've been feeling tired as of late. Liberty and Steve's 1940's story – which has officially been named _Romancing Captain Rogers _– may go on hold because of this. I'm incredibly tired.

To Maymayliu: the papers in chapter fifteen are _falsified_. They aren't actually real, and no one has seen them except for Caroline and Hammer. Those papers are just something they can thrust at the cops and claim legal if standard law enforcement comes. It's just their alibi, basically. The Avengers know better, however.

WARNING: some scenes in this chapter may be slightly graphic. Standard 'I object!' wedding violence ensues.

P.S: Maymayliu got me thinking of this. I lack the ability to draw, and should give proper credits to Crysa on Deviantart, as her program allows me to make the character cover images. That being said, and my lack of artistic talent being known, if anyone wants to make fan art for this story, the upcoming _Romancing Captain Rogers_ fic, or even the completed _Doctor Patient Confidentiality _I would be thrilled and touched to see it.

I would honestly remove the current image stapled to either story and put up the fan art. That's what the effort would deserve, don't you think?

Just throwing that out there.

Also, for those of you awaiting the MARVEL U story, that may be put on hold until I can organize how I want it to go. Still wobbly on a mass-group thing. _Romancing Captain Rogers _may go before it, in the meantime, and will likely be started shortly after this story ends.

Enjoy!

* * *

Fifteen: (Superhero) Wedding Crashers

Liberty sobbed quietly, elbows pressed into her knees. She wished for the fiftieth time that it was possible to flush herself down the toilet. Hurtling perilously through the sky to certain death would be a better ending than marrying Hammer. Layers of lace and silk whispered against her thighs as she readjusted herself on the toilet. Another deep stab of pain tore through her gut, knotting sharply and tightly as she bent.

Any hopes for relief were long gone. The pain had been near constant for almost thirty minutes. It was more than nerves and her time of the month, Liberty knew. She passed clots of blood far too big for comfort. What if she was dying? No one would know, and Hammer would easily be able to shove her out of the plane.

She was stranded with a monster and his goons, void of supportive friends and eager bridesmaids on what should – if she were marrying anyone else – be a happy occasion. Liberty's only reprieve was locking herself in the bathroom, and it was hardly relaxing. The cramps and seemingly ten pounds of tension at her lower belly was crippling. "You done in there?" the oriental accent inquired, accompanying the hurried knocking. "We almost ready to land and I still need to do your makeup!"

"I'm _bleeding_." moaned Liberty from the back of her throat, pain tightening her vocal chords.

"That no problem. We get you panty liner. Or tampon. Hammer stocks pads on the plane, too. Which you want? He real good man. Real smart! He think of everything!"

"He is _not _a good man!" screeched Liberty, unable to contain herself. Why should she? Hammer knew she despised him. He simply didn't care because he'd technically won. Liberty was in his plane, surrounded by armed men, and fated to meet him in the chapel. She was left alone in the quiet for a few seconds.

"Look," the lady murmured lowly, disappointment replacing her earlier excitement, "I just doing my job, okay? Who knows…maybe you love him later. That's what happened for my sister in Beijing."

"Really?"

"Mhm. I come in now? Hammer want us ready to go when we land." wiping herself, hiking the four-layer dress up to her knees, Liberty waddled to the door. The oriental woman, who appeared to be no older than thirty-five, immediately greeted her with a variety of panty liners, tampons, and pads. Liberty was against anything that drew her further into Hammer's expectations, but she didn't want to take her rage out on this woman. She was just following orders, as was Michael. Looking noticeably fatigued, Liberty turned away after selecting a pad.

Though it unnerved her for the woman to hold her gown's train, she allowed it. Part of Liberty wished the dress would be soiled – to hell with the expense or the design! – because Hammer might call off the marriage. It was a long-shot hope, and highly unlikely, but the thought dulled her heartache. Brushing a hand down the top layer, a lace design depicting roses that started at her left hip and ended at her right calf, she barely resisted the urge to vomit. Hammer told her that Katie had made this dress.

A few last-minute alterations turned her would-be party dress into a wedding dress. Liberty could cry, and nearly started to all over again. How could her _own family_ participate in this madness? Knowing Katie contributed felt worse than being alone on the plane. She felt duped, like she'd accepted a twisted part with some great secret everyone knew about except for her.

And now, in the final act, she was discovering it. Hammer's plan, formulated on Caroline's behalf and with her cooperation, was worthy of Shakespeare. Caroline played an unparalleled controller, Hammer was the favored suitor, and Liberty was the young lover in despair. A Juliet without a Romeo and no means of suicide. Locking the bathroom door, putting a metal box on the small, grand marble sink, the woman turned to face Liberty.

She snuffled absently as the woman dabbed her eyes. "You know," the woman whispered quietly after gently cleaning and exfoliating her face, "if you don't like Hammer, you can always strike later." Liberty gave a dry grunt. That would be perfect, but playing the good wife to bide her time wouldn't be worth it. Not even for the chance to get away scot free after watching him writhe and beg for a quick end. "Women always poison their husbands. I see it all the time in movies."

"It's tempting." Liberty mumbled, sitting on the closed toilet after the woman flushed its contents. "But I'm not exactly patient where Hammer's concerned. I'd want it quick…maybe. I lie. This is a forced marriage. I'd draw his pain out as _long _as I could."

"A sexless marriage is torture to a man." offered the woman conversationally, brushing Liberty's hair to disperse the three products she'd just applied. Liberty snorted.

"That pales in comparison to what he deserves. Frankly, I want to push him from the plane. I'd easily pay you double what he is today if you helped me."

"We'd be dead in the air. Not smart." the woman shook her head. "His guards would shoot us before Hammer's body hit the ground."

"True." Liberty conceded. Planning a murder was frustrating. Trying to turn the grisly situation in her favor was exhausting. Between the crying and cramping, she had little energy. Most of her alertness came from the spiritual fire burning deep inside. Like her father, Liberty refused to go down without a fight.

A small silence settled in the bathroom. She felt her hair being twisted, plucked, spritzed, and pinned. The woman moved in front of her at last, primping at the red curls just before her ears. Liberty focused on her concentrated brown eyes. "What's your name?" Liberty asked.

This woman would be the closest thing to an ally on the plane.

"Fang Hua Hong." she replied softly, picking at the curl before her right ear. Once it fit whatever vision she had rolling around in her head the woman stopped. Fang gently bent Liberty's head down, picking at strands of red hair with a pointed comb. "Loosely translated, rearranged to sound proper, it means 'aromatic red flower'." explained Fang as she inserted a headband of flowers that matched Liberty's dress detail. Liberty felt tears prick her eyes at the mention of 'red'.

Steve wore red in his outfit. And her dress was white, another color he loved. _God _she missed Steve! Did he even get her message? She hoped so.

"Oh no, no cry!" soothed Fang as she rummaged in the full makeup carrier. She pouted, unable to stop the tears streaming down Liberty's cheeks. "Good thing I bring waterproof makeup." mumbled Fang to herself. Liberty knew she wasn't making Fang's job easier, and hated that she kept crying, but the emotions flowed like an uncorked, overturned wine bottle.

_Man up, Liberty_, she told herself, _you can't cry if you're going to fight back_. And she wouldn't. Tears would blur her vision and cause her to miss an opportunity to strike. Or run. Forcing her wobbling lips into a tight line, firming the quivering jaw, she let the last voluntary tears run free.

Hammer would get no more tears from her, and neither would his coconspirator, Caroline. If she was going down fighting, she was going down with dignity! "What time do we land?" wondered Liberty, wincing at the hoarseness in her voice.

"About an hour. I only have _one hour_, so you think you not cry for an hour?"

"I'm _done_ crying." promised Liberty. "I'm fixing to start fighting."

"Just fight smart. And sit still." instructed Fang as she cleared Liberty's cheeks again.

* * *

Liberty scowled at Hammer, eyes done up in mascara, liner, and natural tones. She would've spat at him, but the guards holding either arm had iron grips. He merely smiled, puckered his lips in a mock kiss, and slipped into the front passenger side. It was smart, considering there'd be blood if he sat with Liberty. Fang moved over, bumping knees with another guard waiting inside as the two escorting Liberty closed off any hope of escape.

Her eyes immediately shot to the sunroof, but the option was nixed. Stuffing a four-layer dress through a small square wasn't quick. She'd be snatched back in by the long train before any progress was made. The pristine, white four-inch heels would surely slow her running pace. Aside from that, bolting through foreign Las Vegas was unwise.

Who knew what waited for her in Sin City? There easily more people like Hammer waiting in the busy streets. Ones who were poorer and money-hungry. Ones who wouldn't think twice about ripping off the expensive dress or attacking her. The tinted windows obscured most details of the strange city, holding only dim reflections of neon signs.

She tried to count the flashing colors, holding on desperately to the climbing number in her head. If she just _remembered_, maybe she'd have something to aid her escape. The nose of the limousine pointed to the right as it waited for them in park, and they'd yet to turn. So, Liberty deduced, they were driving north. Running south, flying past twenty-three neon signs, should give her something of a chance.

Right?

The limousine shifted to the right. They were turning. She buried her fingers into the plush seats. Her body coiled tightly like an offended cobra preparing to strike. A gentle squeeze from Fang relaxed her.

Because the guards refused to speak, Liberty could hear with haunting clarity. A door slammed shut. Justin was getting out, likely walking to whatever chapel they parked in front of. _Trying to create the illusion of waiting on me? _frowned Liberty as her nose wrinkled in disdain. Tapping echoed on the outside of the car.

The guard to her left opened the door, one hand pressed firmly into her leg. He wrapped his strong fingers around her slim arm, half-dragging her as Fang followed. She quickly collected the train as the second guard emerged, hoisting Liberty off her feet. They were carrying her in before she could memorize anything, Liberty realized. Her eyes combed the parking lot as it led towards a paved walkway and two-story chapel.

Six identical black vans occupied the front parking spots. None of them had a license plate, she noted with dismay. Her stomach clenched in dread. More of Hammer's henchmen were waiting inside, no doubt. Unlike the other weddings on the billboard, theirs was not advertised.

_Please find me, Steve. Please. _Liberty prayed, looking up to the sky._ I don't know what to do. My plan stops after I hit hammer in the face. Or stab him. I'm clueless afterwards._

Fang barely managed to flip the veil over her face before the two men carted her inside. She was led up a winding ivory staircase with smooth, curled handrails painted gold. One man relinquished his hold, taking residence in a chair decorated with vanilla lace. "Why don't you go sit?" offered Liberty testily, not really asking. The man grunted.

"A woman is always walked to the altar." he replied in a naturally gravelly tone.

"Traditionally by her father, or a man who matters." she pointed out.

"You have no father."

"Exactly, and you don't matter. You're not qualified." Liberty sneered.

"Oh, I matter." he guaranteed. She growled as the muffled tip of a gun dug deeply into her hip. "I hold your life in my hands. I'd say I matter a lot." The guard loomed at her back as another blocked the top step. Lace, Gorgette, chiffon, and silk fabric murmured as she walked forward. Half-formed ideas began to spring up in her frantic mind.

There had to be _something _that would delay the wedding! Fang followed her dutifully, minding the train preceding her. Liberty wanted to turn and ask for advice, but thought better of it. She knew the escorting guard had at least one gun. Peering over the matching golden banister she counted thirty-three identically dressed men.

They resembled her guard. All wore black jackets, white undershirts, tiny bowties, black slacks, and polished shoes. Liberty betted they were equally equipped, too. How could one girl in a wedding dress and heels accomplish anything in the face of thirty-three weapon-wielding men? The only familiar faces were Katie, Caroline, and Polly.

Caroline, Katie, and Polly seemed just as stoic as Hammer's watchful guards. Maybe even more so, and the thought was frightening. Her _own family _was feeding her to the metaphorical lion, and they did nothing to intervene. Though Liberty expected something like this would play out the second she saw Hammer, her heart still sank with grief. _How could they? _she found herself thinking sadly.

Hammer gave her a rose bouquet to hold. Liberty didn't want to take it. "Here." he insisted. A beat passed where she did nothing but interlace her own fingers. If she didn't hold it the wedding would be slowed by a fraction of a second.

"Take it, Liberty. It's for the recording webcam." Hammer bared his teeth slightly, barely breaking his faux gentleman's smile as he nodded to the towering table supported by thin stalks of elegantly curled iron. She could hardly see it in the bed of green leaves and spritzed white roses. Two small, unlit red candles framed the roses and camera. Those red candles tied into the velvet red curtains drawn secretively over every visible window. Begrudgingly, she accepted the bouquet.

Hammer's grin returned. He let her hold it for a few minutes before giving the officiator an encouraging nod. Her bouquet was taken away; she was left with nothing to clutch. Liberty resisted the desire to hyperventilate because of her blank mind. The officiator continued, thanking the attending friends and family before beginning the standard blessing.

He had to see this was wrong, right? How could he _not _know who she was? Was there a person who didn't know she and Steve were an item? The man's only protection came from the iron support holding the camera, and his book. She didn't necessarily blame him for continuing.

A book and an iron decoration was no match for gunmen.

Liberty's heart tightened anxiously as the minutes crawled by. Where was Steve? The officiator seemed to jabber faster as the minutes dragged on. "Do you, Liberty, take Justin Hammer to be your lawfully wedded husband?" asked the officiator at last. She swallowed thickly.

Her empire-waist dress felt incredibly taut across her tiny ribcage. She felt her already trembling heart stop, skip, and shake all over again. Liberty's stomach tangled sickeningly. There seemed to be no room for air between her jumbled stomach and the hypersensitivity owed to panic. "I…" Liberty squeaked, repeating the pronoun like a broken record.

Hypoxia and stomach knots fought for dominance. The cramps and sensation of her body menstruating were putting up a good fight. _Oh MY GOD period, I love you!_ "I have to go to the bathroom." she finished, voice trembling.

"Excuse me, _darling_?" Hammer blinked in disbelief.

"I need to go to the bathroom. There's _something_ I need to change."

"Ah." the officiator closed his book slightly. "I understand. I have two daughters."

"No, no we are _not _stopping!" Hammer threw out one hand, waving it adamantly.

"But it's heavy. I don't know if you'll understand, but, well, there comes a time when you _know _your feminine aid needs to be changed and-"

"There's a bathroom on the first floor. Go back through the foyer and take a right into the dinner area. Face the left wall and you'll see it to your left."

"Escort her, please." Justin pinned Fang with his eyes. She nodded obediently, collecting Liberty's train. Liberty knew Fai would give her a few minutes, but not much. Justin would hardly allow enough time for thinking. A contained walk to the bathroom was better than nothing, though.

She took her time changing the panty liner. Liberty thought of breaking her shoe heels, but found it impossible to do so by hand. Beating them against the faucet would only generate noise. Wedging them between the gaps in the bathroom door and shutting it didn't work. The coating cracked and the tips dulled, but nothing critical enough to stop the wedding.

"I need to do something." whispered Liberty to herself, beginning to pace once she put her shoes back on. Fang could only follow, keeping the train spotless. "If I punch him in the face now, and hop over the banister, I can make a run for it."

"An old Chinese proverb once said, 'If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow'."

"I can't be patient! There's no timeleft, Fang! I have no more delays planned!"

"There is always time." she said wisely. "And your final delay is returning to him. Strange things can happen, most of which can be attributed to the person's spirit. If you are good, good will follow. You must simply give it _time_."

Frustrated, defeated, Liberty dropped her hands by her side. She washed her hands and shuffled slowly towards the daunting stairs. Laying down and pretending to be ill might work, as she felt tired and ruined enough. Liberty couldn't fool Justin, though, and she knew that. It was evident in his impatient, predatory gaze.

She returned to the officiator and Justin, trying to keep her face perfectly emotionless. "Now that we're back on track," the officiator smiled, "do you, Liberty, take Justin Hammer to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I…" she raked her brain for anything else to say. Liberty was totally, helplessly, hopelessly blank.

"Liberty? What do you say?" Justin inquired nicely. His tone was slightly stressed. She could see his jaw muscles cramping with rage. Her stuttering lips started to form something, but all was lost. The ground shook as a roar echoed in the distance.

She grinned. "You're screwed."

* * *

Steve thanked Dr. Erskine for the millionth time, god rest his soul. His formula gave Steve the physique that tore through Las Vegas streets. The formula caught SHIELD's attention, and inspired a want to catalogue his DNA in their computer systems after the Chitauri fight and Coriander's disappearance. It enhanced everything, from sperm to cell, leaving him with what Tony referred to as "super sperm". That super sperm – and any involved DNA – survived long enough for SHIELD to track Liberty.

Sex really _was_ amazing. And so was SHIELD's technology.

That gear was accurate to a quarter-mile, after all. Bruce tested it himself. He and Tony both, actually, which filled Steve with trust and confidence. Tony flew ahead, directing them as JARVIS scanned camera footage from nearby establishments once the quarter-mile accuracy faded. There were three chapels in a quarter mile radius, two of which they'd already passed.

Hulk egged them on, able to sense Liberty like he had Coriander. Steve stopped, tingles halting his feet. He knew the scent of peppermint and lavender, and could place it anywhere. Pausing to take the ragged breaths his body so desperately needed, Steve used his enhanced ears. For a moment all he could hear was blood pounding.

But then, very quietly, _"Do you, Liberty, take Justin Hammer to be your lawfully wedded husband?"_

Steve's body sprang back into action. His red boots scratched against the pavement and pounded up the sidewalk. Hulk thundered after him, confirming the faint murmur that might as well have been an illusion. Steve's gut constricted confidently. He _knew _she was in the chapel before him.

Hulk roared, letting Liberty know they had arrived. He was also giving any potential enemies an out while they still had their limbs.

"I know what I say!" the doors flung open with a powerful _boom_! that shook the chapel. Liberty grinned brightly, throwing up her veil as she stumbled towards the banister. Hulk's powerful footsteps rocked the whole building. "Hell no! I object!" Steve bellowed, running and jumping to balance on the nearest vanilla chair. He kicked the seated bodyguard hard enough to render him unconscious.

She felt Hammer seize her throat tightly in one hand. Liberty stumbled back into his waiting arm, finding herself trapped in the crook. "She's mine!" he yelled.

"I beg to differ." Tony flipped his face plate up for a brief second, lowering it as bullets ricocheted off his armored back. He returned fire, sending a man rolling into a second. Vanilla chairs toppled, some shattering under Hulk's mighty feet as he roared and charged through precisely placed chairs like a bull.

"Fight you for her." smirked Steve, following his shield up the right-side stairs. He hated that Hammer was anywhere in the scene before him. It ruined how beautiful Liberty looked. Steve assumed the dress was made by Katie, and knew he should hate it because she was here among Hammer's men, but couldn't. It hugged Liberty just right, crease cupping her small bosoms as the dress flowed elegantly out to the tips of her shoed feet.

She looked like one of the storybook princesses he swore to save and marry in his childhood. _"I'll get myself a real nice lady, dad. A _princess_! When I get big and tall I'll go on an adventure and I'll find her! I'll fight off fifty – _no, one hundred! _– men and she'll come home with me." _he remembered saying.

His dad would merely laugh and tell him to put down the book long enough to eat. _"What do I always say, son? Strong men need vegetables, exercise, and morals to grow right. Keep a good head on your shoulders, walk a little more each day, clean your plate, and you'll be ready to fight off those men in no time."_

He was ready. And he was about to get his princess.

"Fight me for what? A corpse? That's what you'll get if you come any closer." warned Hammer, using his free hand to clench the bundle of fabric in his breast pocket. Steve's forward march died at the sight of a polished dagger. It was small, but still a worthy threat pressed against the curve of her neck. Hammer chuckled, please that Steve stilled. "That's right. This is _mine_."

"The hell she is!" snarled Steve, jabbing a finger at Hammer. "You're not legally married!"

"I'd say we are." Hammer's eyes glittered crazily. "We're in a chapel, all the paperwork has been filed, there are witnesses, and I've got the ring on my person."

"It doesn't matter. The priest never said—"

"STEVE!" Liberty screamed; he reflexively threw up his shield. Bullets bounced off the vibranium like pebbles. Steve flung the object, watching it bounce off the man's skull before hitting the wall and returning to him. Hulk and Tony were easily containing the lower level. Most of the guns had been crushed – dominant hands included, in some cases – and the assailants were thoroughly dazed.

Ribbons of blood tarnished the themed chapel. Tones of pink and brown – entrails of the fallen – mottled the glossy burgundy tile. A room that once smelled of cleanliness, wax candles, and musky citrus was saturated with the stink of rotting flesh and voided bowels. Steve registered the elements of destruction, of unbridled rage and bloodlust, but put them on the back burner. His full attention was on Hammer.

"It doesn't matter." Hammer's lips curled up in a sneer, flashing perfect, white teeth at Steve. "I'm kissing my bride. It's official. He'll say it is if I tell him to." he waved the knife at the officiator before switching it to his other hand. It bit gently into Liberty's neck, resting on her left clavicle.

"Don't you—" spat Liberty towards Hammer, lips puckered in disgust. Justin didn't give her the option to finish, smashing his lips to hers. She scowled and growled disapprovingly as his lips worked sloppily and hungrily from her face to the unthreatened side of her neck. Steve's jaw locked as his fingers played over the strap on his shield. Hammer made deliberately orgasmic noises just to piss him off, and it was working.

"Get—you get _off _me!" demanded Liberty, throwing up her right elbow to hit him in the face. Hammer saw it coming, of course, and pinned it to her side. He sank his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder as punishment. She cried out, distraught and pained.

"Is that how you scream?" Hammer pulled up slightly, thrusting his lips to her ear. "I don't think I'll get tired of hearing _that_." he chuckled throatily. He snatched Liberty's head by the veil, wiggling the long pin hidden under fake roses. Justin treated the left side of her neck to vigorous biting and sucking. Steve swallowed thickly, hissing angrily as Hammer's knife-wielding hand drifted across to the right side of her neck.

He was pretty sure Hammer's long fingers had just copped a feel of Liberty's right breast. She felt helpless and violated. Hammer's fingers were buried so deeply and tightly into her hair that it _hurt_. Liberty felt like he was trying to rip her hair from its roots. The feel of his lips across her skin felt wrong in every way.

His mouth was abrasive. Steve's had been soft, worshipping, and constant their first time. Hammer kissed selfishly and out of spite; it left a toxic sensation on her skin. Steve's lips had left only heat and ecstasy. Her fingers clenched angrily at Hammer's body behind her.

She rolled black pants through her fingers. _Wait a minute…_Liberty pinched the fabric again. Her short stature positioned her against his legs. With her arm fully lowered she could reach his upper thigh. Bending her hand slightly, wedging it between her back and his groin, she curled her fingers like an angry talon. Steve broke out in a grin as Hammer squealed like a schoolgirl and jumped up to the tips of his feet.

His body jerked, racked with pain. The knife-wielding hand loosened, tightened, and swung blindly in diagonal sweeps as he struggled to ease her grasp. She felt the knife slice her skin, but didn't care. Liberty saw the window she needed, and took it. Hammer raised the knife, aiming with blurred vision.

Liberty socked him in the gut before he had a chance to strike her. Winded, Hammer lowered his weapon. She struck him in the gut, chest, and throat. Instincts drove Steve, prompting him to push Liberty out of harm's way when he noticed Hammer attempting a stealthy stab. The weapon would've driven right through her ribs.

She slammed into the floor, air fleeing her lungs. Liberty gasped for air as Steve snatched Hammer's occupied hand and twisted it until his wrist snapped. Hammer shouted in agony; Steve silenced him with a knee to the stomach. He dropped his shield to the floor in favor of pounding Hammer. The alternating blows from his left and right hand could've gone on for forever.

Steve was nearly hypnotized by how _easy _Hammer was to hit. By how _good _it felt to hear him choke on blood and wheeze for air. Hammer's face was nothing more than depressed flesh, blood, and odd angles. The combination of purple, swollen eyes and red blood gushing from a busted nose gave him a sickly hue. When there was nothing left in Hammer's face to break, Steve settled for bashing his head into the floor.

"Steve!" Tony called out.

"In a minute, Tony." the dark, gruff voice didn't sound like him at all. It reeked murder and rage. The barbed reply was slightly softened by generous gasps.

"She's bleeding out, Steve!" his eyes widened. Steve dropped Hammer, rushing over to Liberty's side. There was a puddle of shiny, dark liquid collecting around her neck.

"He must've nicked the carotid artery. I need you to apply pressure. _Good _pressure, and fast. Make a bind, then hold it."

"Out of _what_, Tony?" screamed Steve exasperatedly. He was panicking, and couldn't tear his eyes from her paling skin. There was so much red. A startling amount for someone her size. Her lips shuddered, pushing out half-formed words in weak puffs of air.

Had she been trying to call him the whole time?

Steve felt like he was going to vomit. She'd been bleeding out, and where was he? Beating the pulp out of a dazed and broken man. Liberty grabbed at her dress, fingers catching in fistfuls of fabric as she searched blindly for any part of Steve. He ripped strips of the dress away, cradling her neck in his hand as he wound the material around her neck.

He methodically wound strips, creating multiple layers. The layers darkened immediately with blood, frightening him. Steve pulled a glove from one shaking with his teeth, and wound it in the next layer to maintain pressure. "Tony we have to help her. Tony, _help her_!" Steve clutched her neck in a vice, trying not to fracture it as the desperation and idea of losing her fractured him.

"The best I can do is fly back and get Banner's bag. Stay here. Keep the pressure on." Tony didn't give him a second glance as he bolted away. That wasn't good enough, Steve thought. She'd be gone by then. Her eyes were already dimming.

"Hospital!" he croaked, looking to Hulk. "Get me to the nearest hospital!"

"Tony…" the giant shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"GET ME TO THE HOSPITAL! PLEASE!" Steve begged. The urgency constricting his throat was unfamiliar. He'd never been this worried about anyone, not even Peggy. Steve felt like he was holding a smaller, weaker version of himself in his arms. She was a big part of him, and he'd be nothing if she left.

The modern era would mean nothing in her absence. He would mean nothing. She'd take all his happiness and good memories with her. All of the important steps had been made with her, and he refused to make them with anyone else should she die. Steve was a one-man kind of gal.

He'd waited seventy years for the right partner, and _damnit _she was _not _leaving him! The super soldier didn't even register being picked up. His tears were ripped away by the wind. Had Hulk been running this whole time? He didn't even know.

All of Steve's energy and focus went into shielding Liberty from the stinging air whipping past them. He could hear her rasping and sputtering. "Please don't die. Don't leave me alone again. I've been alone for _seventy years_. I can't be alone anymore." Steve's breath hitched as the words struggled over the lump in his throat. His teeth gnashed against the material of her dress as he fought off debilitating sobs. Losing his mother and father had hurt, but not like this.

"TRANSFUSION!" Hulk roared as he crashed through the nearest hospital entrance. "TRANSFUSION!"

Steve jumped down from his relaxing fist. There were a handful of medical personal still around. Most had taken cover or scattered as the ground shook. "Save her." Steve felt the world spin at light-speed as he waited for someone to take her. For someone to do something.

"I—I don't think—"

"I didn't _ask _what you thought." he roared to the stuttering woman. "I said 'save her'!"

"CAROTID ARTERY DAMAGE." Hulk explained, powerful jaw working to relay Banner's hurried thinking. "NEED BLOOD. STEVE GIVE BLOOD. SUPER SOLDIER BLOOD. GOOD BLOOD."

"That's a lot of blood." gulped one doctor as he dared to draw closer and examine Liberty. "If she's already lost this much, then—"

"Fuck you, your science, and your medical training! I'm not asking for an evaluation. I'm asking for a _solution_." Steve glared at the doctor.

"The only options are a tourniquet and transfusion."

"Hook me up." demanded Steve.

"Sir, do you even know her blood type? Are you two compatible?"

"It doesn't matter! I'm giving her my blood!"

"But it _does _matter. If you give blood and it doesn't match, she'll die."

"She's dying _now_ because you're not doing anything!" Steve pointed out. It would be so easy to head butt this annoying idiot.

"Steve…" he felt nails prick gently at his chest. "Steve…" her eyes blinked slowly, screwing shut beneath the bright lights. His heart trembled as a new set of tears oozed from his blue eyes. He leaned down, breath quivering hard and unsteadily. Liberty's curls danced with his breaths. "I love you, Steve."

"I love you, too." he sniffed, raising the arm supporting her neck so she could see him. Steve didn't care if she saw him cry. He wanted her to see that she was loved, that he cared. That he was right here. "And I'm going to help you." Steve kissed her forehead with trembling lips.

"Thanks." her little chest heaved as she sucked in a shallow breath. "I'd always hoped I'd leave happily. I'm glad I got to know what it feels like."

"What _what_ feels like?" Steve dared to ask. He didn't bother with correcting her. She was using the wrong tense. Liberty would be okay; she just didn't know it because her body was acting up.

"To be loved. Reah-really loved. By…special person. To have…all the pain…fixed." her eyes blinked slower, lids unable to make it up fully.

"That's all this is." Steve assured, shaking her slightly to keep her awake. Hazy, dark eyes focused on him. "This is just _pain_." he sniffed wetly. "I'll fix it, okay? I'm working on it. Just…just stay awake. _Please_!"

Steve dropped gently to the floor. His knees were failing to support him now. He held her in his arms like a child. Like a beautiful doll, one hand squeezing firmly around the wound in her neck. Hissing caught his ear, and Steve looked up with teary eyes as Tony's arc reactor came into sight.

"Stay Hulked up, Banner. I'm going to need you." the faceplate flipped up as Tony landed. Banner's medical bag was dropped unceremoniously to the floor and ripped open as Tony pawed through it. He emptied the bag, collected pieces, and assembled hastily.

"Which part goes into me?" Steve asked as he eyed the needle-tipped sides.

"Either one." breathed Tony as he motioned for Steve to lay Liberty on the floor. Rolling the suit up revealed veins in his gloveless arm. Steve staked one end into the first blue line he saw. "You better hope to hell you hit the vein and didn't go _through _it." Tony grumbled as he isolated one of Liberty's veins and inserted the remaining needle.

"Ow!" Liberty moaned, arching up as best she could in her fading state.

"Pain is good, half-pint. Stay with us. Hulk, suspend Steve. We have to get the blood flowing." Steve was ripped off his feet and quickly overturned. He felt like a glass timer. His stomach and heart fell into his throat, threatening to slip out of his gaping mouth like timer sand.

"Give me her hand. I want to hold it." Steve hadn't heard himself squeak since he was a child. His vocal chords were so taut that speaking hurt. He was surprised Tony heard him at all. Liberty's free hand was given to him. Her fingers couldn't even curl to apply downward pressure.

She was very still, and Steve was scared. Signs of life were nearly nonexistent. Steve clutched her hand in a death grip, slightly comforted by the occasional pulse beating against his gloved hand. "It's going to be okay." he whispered. Liberty said nothing, lashes creating dark fans that rested against pasty cheeks.

Tony had her head propped up on his armored knees. Steve watched the blood inch through the plastic tubing, wondering how much she needed. He wondered how much time had passed. The dread of wondering if she'd come out alive was akin to the dread he felt at possibly being captured for false army applications. His breath was caught in his throat, like it had been seventy years ago at every try.

Her wrist relaxed, creating a sharp point.

"Liberty? Liberty? _LIBERTY_!" yelled Steve. She said nothing.

"Oh no." Tony leaned down, listening for air.

"She has my blood! She can't die! She _can't_!" Steve shook his head. He wouldn't believe it. She couldn't be gone. Coriander had come back from death, and Liberty would, too. She _had_ to.

"How fast is your metabolism? Four times the average man, right?"

"What the _hell _does that have to do with anything?"

"You guys have the same blood type. The blood will take. Your energy requirements are probably taxing her body though. She may not have any energy to help her body adjust. Kid's like a dead car battery."

"Don't say dead!" Steve hissed.

"She just needs a jump." Tony assured. "You guys are a hospital. You have soup, right? Go get me soup, cups, and napkins." Tony directed the nearest nurse who watched, terrified. She scurried off, recruiting two other passing nurses. He carefully began CPR, mindful of his armor's weight against her little chest. _Five, six, seven…oh god…_Steve's nausea got worse with every additional cycle of CPR.

All he could do was hang there and watch. He felt sick. It was Bucky all over again. Bucky strapped down to the gurney. Bucky free-falling to his death with one hand still reaching for him.

He was there, but unhelpful. It was Bucky and the train all over again. Steve couldn't survive another Bucky. Liberty _couldn't _be another Bucky. "Steve, climb up on the reception desk. The elevation will maintain the blood flow. Banner, shrink down. I'll need you to filter the soup through the napkin and into her mouth."

Bruce set Steve on the counter, sensing his instability. In seconds the doctor was before them. The nurse returned with a plastic bowl of soup, cups, and napkins. Dr. Banner took them, ignoring the scorching bowl, and took his first cupful. CPR typically required the resuscitator's two hands, but Tony could easily pump her little chest with one.

His free hand maintained the napkin's tight stretch as Bruce hesitantly poured soup over the napkin. Liberty's partially supported head left her mouth naturally agape. Steve watched drops of yellow soup disappear into the little mouth he knew so well. Napkins were exchanged, soggy cups were replaced, and the liquid level gradually lowered. _How long has it been? Is it too late_? Steve's eyes burned as he struggled to discern any change in Liberty.

Once the bowl was empty Bruce checked her pulse. "We've got a pulse." he announced, taking a relieved swipe at the sweat on his brow.

"YES!" Steve jumped up. A pained mewl answered.

"Way to go, Capsicle. Ripped it right out of her arm." Tony shook his head with a sigh. His typically blunt sarcasm returned, celebrating the revival of Liberty. Steve tried to look embarrassed as his cheeks threatened to break under the pressure of his gigantic grin.

"Steve?" called Liberty, sounding like death worn over.

"No, that's Bruce leaning over you."

"No!" Liberty whined, brows pinching together in mild agitation. "Where's _Steve_?"

"I'm right here. I'm right here." Steve fluidly collected at her side, indescribably happy. He kissed her forehead, sewing lines of affection between her temples as large thumbs stroking either cheek. All was well. She was in his arms. The familiar piece that was _her_ locked into his spirit, sending a wave of completeness washing over Steve.

"'M hungry, Steve." she blinked tired, big blue eyes up at him. He laughed.

"That's part of the curse." Steve joked.

"Curse?"

"Never mind. Just rest. Just _rest_." Steve cradled her fondly, whispering into her hair. She could sleep now that the danger had passed. Liberty needed it, he thought. Her body was running on drops of soup, and that would soon be gone if she inherited his increased metabolism like he imagined she did.

"We'll set up a room." the nurse whispered as Liberty threatened to drift off to sleep. "She'll need to undergo examination since she's on hospital grounds."

"Is it next to the cafeteria?" she yawned.

"We'll bring food." replied the nurse softly.

"Bring a chair, too. I doubt your cots can accommodate me." Steve told her. Tony and Bruce followed him into the appointed room.

"Go home. Go hold your kids." whispered Steve once he settled in the chair. They'd hooked Liberty up to several machines. She dozed in a nest of needles and plastic tubing. He picked absently at the dropped off meal, more focused on Liberty snoozing quietly. Tony and Bruce's presence could be felt at his back.

"Tell the team she made it." he looked at them over his shoulder, eyes shining with gratitude.

"She'll be able to have visitors tomorrow afternoon." informed the nurse. "Would you like anything else, Mr. Rogers?"

"No thank you."

"Told you we've always got your back." Tony squeezed his shoulder. "See you in the morning, Cap."

"I can't even begin to thank you and Bruce enough. If she had died…you would've had to bury me, too. She would've took everything I am with her." Steve stroked his thumb across her hand. He gave it a light kiss. "I can't begin to imagine what you'll have me doing to repay you." a small chuckle escaped him.

"Saying 'Bye Tony' is good enough for now."

"Bye, Tony. Bye Bruce."

"Goodbye, Steve. We'll see you in the morning." Bruce patted his back. "And don't worry. We'll bring you _regular _food."

"Thanks." Steve laughed, feeling his eyes crinkle at the corners. They left, leaving him in silence. Liberty wore her tattered wedding dress, looking out of place in the sterile hospital bed. It resembled _Sleeping Beauty_'s setup. "It's exactly like it." Steve muttered to himself. "I'll get my happy ending with the girl I love." he kissed her lips and settled in for a long, sleepless night.


	17. Seeing Red and White, Feeling Blue

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to miller330 and Kassandra J for reviewing the previous chapter. I think this will be the last chapter, if not the second-to-last (probably second-to-last).

Warnings for depression apply to this chapter.

* * *

Sixteen: Seeing Red and White, Feeling Blue

Pepper and Coriander showed up to deliver a bag of cleverly disguised, deliciously banned food. Liberty was the only one awake, and received it quietly. Her first conscious moment consisted of watching Steve's head bob sleepily. He managed to hold himself up for a few minutes, but the dark circles framing his usually lively blue eyes won out. They dragged him down to the bed where his chin dropped in the small space created by his folded arms.

The prod of his elbows was firm in her hip, but Liberty didn't care. She was just happy to be awake. To be alive. Eating little KFC sandwiches with one hand was challenging, but she didn't dare halt the rhythmic threading of Steve's hair through her fingers. It looked to be helping him sleep, and Liberty wanted to hold Steve.

While she didn't have a complete recollection of what happened after they stormed the chapel, Liberty retained fragments. They did little to comfort her. Blocking them out didn't work. She remembered emotions more so than the actual events, and found such rawness was nearly impossible to forget. Her body was already being seized by remnants of fear and iciness.

Steve snored, oblivious to her bodily spasms.

Death. Fear. The cold. Something warm crawling down her back and neck. Hypoxia. Blurring vision. Decreased concentration. Muted surroundings. Darkness stealing all the chapel's colors.

"Eat. You're here now. It's okay." Pepper reminded in a hushed whisper, rewrapping her trembling fingers around the tiny sandwich. Liberty took a half-hearted bite. Her stomach growled, demanding more, but she didn't have the appetite. Four sandwiches would easily be enough to sate her, usually, but something was different now. The change was palpable, like the sandwich in her hand.

What happened to her? She had no memories of her admittance into the hospital. There were vague recollections of a garbled conversation, but little else. Liberty still wasn't sure how she ended up in the hospital, or what prompted such a visit. Pepper nudged the bag towards her.

"Tony and Bruce think you'll have an accelerated metabolism like Steve. Keep eating, even if you think you can't. I don't want your body to go into shock." Pepper dug around in the paper bag to produce another sandwich. Steve flinched, snore tapering off abruptly. He gave a long, slow inhale as he readjusted himself.

"That wouldn't be good to find if they re-test you." pointed out Coriander. Steve had overseen the first round of tests while she was unconscious (the ones they allowed him to, anyways). The doctor was allegedly coming in to discuss those results. Pepper and Cori wanted Liberty looking better than death worn over before he arrived. Her fair, dewy complexion was gradually returning.

She was no longer transparent. Her lips held their usual rosiness, and were no longer lined in startling blue. The door gave an audible click, pulling open slightly. Panicked, fearing chastising, Liberty stuffed the last quarter of the sandwich in her mouth. Dr. Carrington looked to be engaged in conversation, one polished shoe peeking through the doorway.

Liberty used that time to chew, hoping she wouldn't resemble a hamster by the time he turned to face her. She felt heat pool in her cheeks as she became very aware of their stuffed condition. Dr. Carrington quirked an eyebrow at her, sending a gray brow into the wrinkles of his forehead, but said nothing. "Mr. Rogers?" called Dr. Carrington softly as he cautiously prodded Steve with a pen. The super soldier jumped to alertness, spine stiffening as he gave a bird-like squawk of surprise.

"Mmm—I, uh, yes? How—how can I help you, Doctor?" he stammered drowsily, wincing as his back cracked in several places.

"May I have a word with you? Outside?"

"O-of course." Steve inhaled deeply, filling his chest to poke it out in some semblance of collectedness. He greeted Pepper and Cori with the smallest of waves, following Dr. Carrington out of the room. A small silence blanketed the room.

"So…" Cori picked up another sandwich. Dr. Carrington hadn't exactly lectured her for the food, so she saw no harm in eating another sandwich or two. The small-talk was more or less to calm her nerves. Liberty was concerned about what Dr. Carrington had to say. Wasn't he supposed to be giving the results of her tests?

She hadn't been awake for them, but Liberty didn't think that excluded her from hearing the findings. It worried her that Steve had been coaxed from the room. Why? Why separate them again when she'd only just realized he'd barely helped her escape death? Something innate and spiritual warned her that the danger had not completely passed.

That same feeling told her she would not celebrate her near-death experience in jovial fairytale style. _You're not out of the woods yet,_ said her gut. Liberty was inclined to agree. Her teeth tore through the sandwich, stabbing at her lower lip. The knee-jerk reaction was to flinch, but she felt nothing.

"Liberty! _Liberty_! Relax, I'm sure everything's fine." Pepper burrowed her thumb into Liberty's shoulder in effort to relax her. A stress knot came undone beneath the appendage and Liberty's tense shoulders drooped at last. Coriander snuck boldly towards the door, betting Steve was in the vicinity. While Kleiser's actions would forever be a blemish on her mind, Cori could thank his DNA for maintaining the otherwise weak Chitauri blood flowing through her. Alien DNA meant unnatural human abilities (like five slightly increased senses).

_Steve's crying_, she mouthed to Pepper. Pepper frowned, clucked her tongue, and wrapped Liberty in a warm hug. Liberty didn't understand what was going on, but knew Cori was worried. Coriander being worried – and by the door – meant the doctor didn't have good news. Liberty felt tears prick her blue eyes as the confusion and hurt washed over her.

What had she done? Obviously the doctor had news to share about her; she was the only one in the hospital bed! _What did I do to you, Steve_? she wondered, feeling ashamed and upset that she'd brought her boyfriend such discomfort. _I'm sorry, Steve_.

* * *

"I'm about to ask you a very serious and potential disturbing question, Mr. Rogers." warned Dr. Carrington. Steve blinked, steeling himself. His body was ready, but not his mind. Liberty was fine. What could possibly be disturbing about his girlfriend pulling through, about being able to feel her body pulse with life and warmth as he guarded her during the night? Nothing was disturbing about that, Steve told himself, in fact, it was the farthest thing _from _disturbing.

Nonetheless, he swallowed. He didn't remember nodding, but must've. Dr. Carrington wouldn't have continued on otherwise. "Was Liberty raped, Mr. Rogers?" Steve felt like he'd been sucker punched. Had Hammer assaulted her on the plane?

Rogers didn't know Hammer personally, but doubted he would do such a thing. _He's not that stupid_, comforted the dark voice that usually pined for Liberty. It was now playing the part that had manifested in the chapel, the one that beat Hammer within an inch of his life as Liberty lay dying just feet away. "I…" Steve felt dizzy. "N-no sir. She and I…we were intimate prior to our deployment investigating the disappearance of Hammer's wineglass, but that was it. I…I was her first."

"I see." he licked his thumb, opened the folder, and flicked through a few pages. Proper documentation on her emergency transfusion had been added for legal purposes. Dr. Carrington's black-brown eyes combed through the information. "That might explain it…" Dr. Carrington mumbled to himself, lips molding into a remorseful frown soon after.

"Explain what, sir?"

"You may want to sit down, son." the wrinkled hand mottled with brown age spots pushed him into a nearby chair like he was a feather. Like he was scrawny little Steve again. His gut chilled and firmed like concrete, aiding in the heavy deposit of his body. Steve began to wring his hands like a nervous schoolboy awaiting punishment outside the principal's office.

"Dr. Carrington?" Steve nearly pleaded, voice dying and surging at random.

"Ms. Ramsey appears to have recently been with child. Unfortunately, due to stress or genetic reasons, the baby was naturally aborted."

"A…a baby?" Steve's head spun. "We had a _baby_?"

"That's what the tests confirmed, yes. We initially thought some type of vaginal mutilation or harm had occurred upon finding so much blood during the full body examination, but that was not the case. I…I'm sorry, Mr. Rogers."

"How…how do you know it's gone?" Steve choked out. He didn't want to believe that _Hammer_—of all people—cost him a child. His _first _child. _Their _child. "H-how do you know she's still not _with _child?"

"The female body excretes certain hormones to regulate the body after a miscarriage. If I were to ask Liberty, she may recall feeling stomach pains and symptoms similar to a period that produced unusually large, flushable clumps or clots. All of these elements point to a miscarriage, Mr. Rogers."

"I don't even understand!" he wanted to scream. To throw things. To break something. Frustrated tears leaked from the corners of his blue eyes. "Our…our intimacy wasn't that long ago! How could you already tell something like that?" Steve was hurt and angry.

Why did all of the nice things have to be taken from him? Bucky fell to his death, Peggy likely died of natural causes, and Libertyhad barely escaped death's clutches. And now, unsatisfied, the Grim Reaper had come back to claim his unborn child. Successfully. The knowledge stung, wormed deep within Steve like some nauseous hellfire exploring every inch of him.

"Your sperm is part of your DNA, Steve. It carries the code for rapid cellular development just like the rest of your body. As such, the baby grew at an accelerated rate." explained Dr. Carrington. Steve swallowed thickly. The old-fashioned image he dreamed of – kids, a dog, the white picket fence – was falling apart right before his eyes. All at once the imaginary children disappeared like smoke, the dog collapsed into a pile of bones, and the white picket fence fell in heaps of splintered wood bearing chipped paint. He did his damnedest to withhold the sobs, muffling them by biting into a tightly clenched fist, but it didn't help.

It was all _gone_, he kept realizing over and over as the pain returned stronger, fresher, and rawer every time. His child had been _stolen _from him. There was no gender to identify the baby, no name to forever reserve with bittersweet fondness, but Steve felt cheated all the same. The chair groaned as he leaned forward, legs planted firmly to the floor. His elbows were staked deeply into either knee, hands laced together to silence his large, trembling lips.

All of the soldier's strength was nothing compared to this. Steve was powerless and begging for mercy as this knowledge tormented him.

Steve couldn't take it anymore. He needed to see Liberty. She was the only thing he had left. His feet slammed down again, propelling his body upwards with enough force to indent the hospital floor. Partially blinded by tears, Steve staggered back into the room. Her soft sniffles met his ears.

He folded around her, needing her as much as she needed him. Dr. Carrington gently pulled Pepper and Coriander from the room to explain the turn of events. Steve brushed his thumbs lovingly over her familiar curls, shaking his head and planting firm kisses to her scalp. He wouldn't believe for a second that this was her fault, and refused to acknowledge the repetitive apologies she blubbered. Liberty clutched Steve like a lifeline, letting the scent of him, the feel of him, encompass her.

"I'm sorry." she wheezed again through still more tears.

"Don't. Don't _you _be sorry. It's Hammer. _Hammer's _sorry. He will be. I _love_ you." Steve was quick to reply. It was honest, raw, angry, and affectionate. If one thought was allowed to co-reside with the unfortunate, imminent news of her miscarriage, he would want it to be that he didn't blame her in any way.

"I'm sorry." Liberty repeated.

"Love you." he said without hesitation, snuggling against the soft bed of curls.

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

They were like scratched, skipping records until one of them found the strength to quit crying. Steve ended up finding that strength. It was easy to coax forth after she fell asleep in his arms, tear-stained face tucked into his chest. Liberty was all vulnerability and shame wrapped in flesh. He couldn't even begin to understand why she thought it was her fault; Steve chalked it up to her body's hormones.

He brushed a hand down the once-fine dress, feeling patches of dried blood and smooth material. It was stained with blood, rumpled due to her bedded condition, and still had wet spots from his tears. If he tried, he could pick out the sandwich bag's smell. Steve's stomach churned like the untamed sea at the thought of Liberty wearing a wedding dress tinged with blood and tears. Like the broken picket fence of his dream life, the dress signified a happy ending temporarily upended.

The ruined wedding dress served as a reminder. They were still fighting a war. Still crawling through the mud. They just had to push through the last few feet to make it out alive, to make it out together. "We'll be okay." Steve promised, collecting her. Dr. Carrington gave her permission to go home; it was his professional opinion that she needed a familiar environment.

And maybe a session with a therapist. Or a test-run with one of the multiple groups in the pamphlets he handed Steve.

Steve signed her out without issue, meeting Pepper and Coriander outside. Happy waited with a sympathetic frown, opening the limo's back door. Pepper and Coriander opted to sit up front with Happy, allowing Steve the feeling of solitude for healing purposes. "We'll be okay." he promised like a broken record, hugging her sleeping form to him as he rocked her slightly. The more Steve said it, the more he started to believe it.

Loving an Avenger wouldn't be easy, he knew. They were on a perilous path fraught with obstacles either way he looked at it. He had villains to battle, and she had her family demons. Those would soon be dealt with, though. Tony and Bruce wanted to come, originally, but found themselves unable to do so after remembering Hulk left Polly, Katie, and Caroline wrapped in broken pieces of the chapel's fancy staircase.

They were currently extracting and returning the offenders to New York. Hammer was in tow, carried in a separate vehicle due to medical needs. Steve checked his phone to find a voicemail and back-up text messages relaying all of this. He was powerless to do little else but mope, stay by Liberty's side, and check his phone once they returned to Stark Tower.

Part of him hoped that this was all a bad dream. Part of him hoped that he could press "DELETE" and forget this day like he could those messages. Part of Steve wanted Dr. Carrington to call and said they'd made a grave mistake and put the wrong papers in Liberty's folder. None of that happened, and the phone was quiet for the rest of the day.

It left Steve in a dismal mood. He was almost catatonic with grief. Tony brought him lunch and dinner that day. Liberty slept, restoring her drained body and likely indulging in some dreamy coping mechanism beneath the blankets of his bed. "Eat up, Cap."

"I don't really have the appetite, Tony."

"You're going to need your strength, Cap." he insisted.

_That's an understatement_, Steve thought. It was so very true, though. He felt like there was nothing left of him. Somehow, miraculously, he was still alive. Rogers felt like a wind-up toy without a winding gear.

He was on the verge of complete stillness. His desire to move was gone, and yet Steve still felt his heart beating. Despite his drained state, he was somehow alive. Somehow surviving. It was something he couldn't and didn't care to wrap his head around.

"What for?" he mumbled rather bitterly and glumly.

"For the fight. We still have to take Caroline and Hammer to court." Steve perked up slightly. The bloodlust within him was roused. That was perfect and just, the soldier in him said. Steal the rest of their miserable, greedy lives because of what they took from you, the soldier encouraged. That notion – as biased as it may be – was steadily gaining attractiveness.

They deserved to suffer, anyways. Caroline most of all, because of what she did to Liberty. Hammer just as much because he sought to use Liberty with no regard, just like Caroline. If not for Liberty, then for the fact that they disrupted his budding family before they even had a fighting chance. Last but not least, they deserved it because they fucked with him and his dream.

Steve was loyal to his ideals, and never backed down if someone challenged him. If someone did the wrong thing, he was there to fight and make it right no matter the odds. This was such a time, and Caroline and Hammer would regret triggering such fierce habits. "What about Polly and Katie?" Steve inquired, noticing those two names missing.

"Rolled on Caroline." shrugged Tony. "The defense team's already claiming Katie was inadvertently brainwashed to play a part. Polly just pled guilty to being the vet that drugged and stole the dogs. While that incriminates her, sharing the tidbit about using them to smuggle in crystal for Hammer – who couldn't make bulk purchases while being monitored and on house arrest at the time – keeps her safe."

"I see." mumbled Steve, idly dipping the grilled cheese in the tomato soup. He grinned softly, tiredly. Liberty made this meal for him once. His fingers absently found the tuft of exposed hair, stroking it as he ate with one hand.

"The shit is going to hit the fan, my friend." Tony predicted with sureness. It already had, technically. "But, we've got your back."

"I know, Tony." Steve gave him a small, grateful smile.

"This is all centered around Liberty and the will, so we'll have to make sure she's prepared for court. Hammer marrying her was Caroline's backup plan if the murder didn't go right, which it didn't."

"Seems to me like she's screwed either way." mused Steve.

"Oh she is." Tony smiled. "Being a repeat offender to the courts, Hammer's sentencing is worse this time around if he gets convicted. He's already rolled on Caroline and pinned her as the mastermind. He can't get away scot-free, but he'll get a reduced sentence for cooperation. Maybe…if he's lucky."

That was just the tip of the iceberg for Steve. He wanted _more _punishment for the people who'd caused the loss of his child. Briefly, the soldier wondered if he was going insane. Usually he'd be fine with just desserts like what Tony had described, but that was hardly enough in this case. Would anything _ever _be enough in the wake of a loss like that?

He didn't know.

"I'll talk to her about it when she wakes up." Steve assured, petting Liberty's hair.

"Reserve time for yourself, too. They'll probably want your account of what she said on the day of the parade."

"I'll give them that and more. Whatever they want. I won't hold back. Caroline deserves _everything _she'll earn!" Steve growled, ripping the grilled cheese apart with the strong clench of his jaw. Tony's lips twitched up and down once in something sympathetic, understanding, and agreeing. Liberty shifted, one leg drifting over to lay across Steve's as she buried one hand beneath the pillow and tucked the other between her breasts.

"Simmer down, Steve." advised Tony in a soft murmur.

"I'm just getting started." Steve said.

"You scare the hell out of me, old man." Tony chuckled quietly. He gave Steve's shoulder a firm clap before getting up and exiting the room. Steve licked a bead of tomato soup from his thumb. Oh yes, he was just getting started. And he wouldn't stop, not until Caroline was thoroughly miserable and begging for mercy.

Even then, he wouldn't stop.

Fueled by rage, conflicted with the idea of abandoning his miserable lover, Steve found himself carefully unwinding their limbs in search of food. He needed to stock up on food to sustain his rage. All of his energy was quickly being channeled into thinking, planning, and prematurely celebrating Caroline's inevitable demise. With Tony hand-picking the attorneys, and Hammer, Polly, and Katie readily pointing the finger at Caroline, victory was ensured. Caroline would drag her heels, but Steve was ready for that.

Steve collected enough leftovers to make several meals for a normal person. Rearranging the rewarmed containers into something manageable, Steve moved to exit the kitchen. He almost dropped everything at the gentle touch to his elbow. Liberty was the last person he expected to be up, but he certainly wouldn't deny her touch. It was welcome.

"Sorry." she murmured, seeing his startle. Steve pursed his lips, tempted to say then and there that the phrase was outlawed until further notice. She always said 'sorry' for things beyond her control. Like being tricked into Dally's apartment, like bleeding out in the chapel. "I just…didn't want to be alone."

"You're not. I was coming back to bed." Steve kissed her temple. She grabbed a handful of silverware from the drawer, maintaining her hold on his forearm as they walked back to the room. To his delight, she was eating. Not as much as he'd like, but she was at least picking at a few things. The curse of an accelerated metabolism often made the call of food hard to ignore.

A contented – albeit somewhat sad – silence settled over them. Steve leaned heavily on the headboard, long arms picking at the arrangement of food while keeping Liberty safely wrapped in his embrace. They closed up the leftovers and gave them to JARVIS nearly forty minutes later. The lovers spent the remaining twenty minutes of that hour holding one another. "I'm glad to have you back." Steve kissed her forehead, pulling her into his lap so their legs could intertwine.

He needed her wrapped around him like plant roots needed soil and water.

"I'm glad to be back. I didn't want to leave you alone. You've spent so much time alone, Steve. It breaks my heart, really." her little fingers traced invisible shapes across his shirt.

"It broke my heart to know you were gone. To know that Hammer had taken you." Steve lifted her chin on his large fingers, stroking his rough thumb across the smooth skin of her lower jaw. He placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"I'm back." she nuzzled into him. "He didn't win."

"I know." one big hand found the small of her back, further wrapping her in warmth. Steve massaged circles into her flesh as Liberty relaxed against him. "And I told myself that if—no, when—I got you back, I'd come clean. There were things I should've told you before leaving to suit up with the others. I…I want to share those things now."

The loss of their would-be child was fresh. It probably always would be, too. Steve thought the best way to ease the pain was to come closer together. Doing so in a physical sense didn't seem appropriate, but bonding emotionally was perfect. Nothing united two people more than a baring of the souls.

She would know everything about him, as he'd come to know everything about her. This would be done without investigations, DVDs, and broken computers, though. It would be up close, personal, and in bed where they were only centimeters apart, if that. "Go ahead." encouraged Liberty, settling down for a long tale as Steve readjusted his powerful frame to lay flat and face-up in the reinforced bed.

"Well, I was a kid from Brooklyn…." he began. Steve talked for what felt like days. She knew his whole life story by the time he finished, from every girl he'd stuttered over to the name of every alley he'd been beaten up in. At some point, though – maybe between drinking with Bucky and the others and destroying the last of Schmidt's camps before following him to the mountains – she'd fallen asleep. Liberty's face showcased stress, fatigue, and pain, but also contentedness.

She looked like she didn't want to be anywhere else in the world, and Steve's heart melted. A relieved feeling washed over him, brought on by her gentle breaths and the sensation of their hearts beating in synch. It was like the _ah-ha! _moment of triumph when he stepped out of Howard's machine and into the life of a true soldier with a physically capable body. The feeling had no words, but Steve knew how to translate it.

_Everything's going to look up from here. You'll see. _And he believed it.

It was like jumping the impressive gap to reach Bucky's side before the flames consumed him and the structure caved in. Once the court case was dealt with, they'd be out of the woods. They'd be at peace. He'd finally be able to ask for her hand like a man should. Steve slept easier than he had the night before.

Steve fell into a dreamless sleep, carried and comforted by emotions more than mental pictures. A feeling of rightness, security, and happiness flooded him. His toes wiggled absently beneath the sheets. Kids swung and giggled on a hand-made, American swing set as the bones of the imaginary dog reassembled themselves to support a muscled, furry body. The rotten, broken boards of the picket fence were replaced and painted anew.

_Everything's going to look up from here. You'll see. _And he believed it.


	18. Just Desserts

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN:** Thanks to the guest reader, WulfLuvr22, missamerica1122, H.E Vaughn, miller330, ThoughtlessRage, and Maymayliu for reviewing the last chapter. I've been wanting to write this, but wasn't sure how to begin wrapping this story up. There will likely be one last chapter, an epilogue.

To WulfLuver22: Yes. In my story Steve can still have kids. The mechanics and fabled science as to HOW will be explained in the epilogue :D. Good question, though.

My _Initiative: Romance _story is up, so feel free to check that out and leave requests :).

_Romancing Captain Rogers _will be up within a few days' time of finishing this story. I have to go back and watch _Captain America: The First Avenger _to get a feel for the movie. (and I have to finish this semester of college and look for schools and things like that)

Hope there are no die-hard _Cinderella _fans who vigorously defend the movie. I'm going off my memory and personal belief that Cinderella dropped her right slipper at the ball. This little note will make sense as you read this chapter.

Also: wow. We're not too far away from 100 reviews! How awesome is that? I think it'd be pretty cool to have my _second _Avenger-based story reach 100 reviews (but that's just me).

Enjoy!

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Seventeen: Just Desserts

"SON OF A BITCH!" Liberty yelped and gnawed on her lower lip to stifle the screams trying to escape. She'd forgotten about her enhanced strength, and sent the ceramic cobbler dish flying into the oven's ceiling. The dish, as expected, bounced off and returned like a heavy stone. An explosion of crusted, crumbling, _boiling _peaches decorated the inside. Bits of molten peach clung to her pale skin.

She nearly dropped it all over again. Grabbing hot pans with her newfound strength wasn't easy. Liberty had already cracked three glass pans straight down the middle. Successfully placing it on the stovetop to cool, she turned her anger to the stove door. _Damn stove! _she thought, slamming it shut with her knee, _damn everything!_

The stove utilized the momentum like a pendulum. Stripped hinges let the door fall against her aproned thigh. A burst of heat preceded sharp, quick pain. Liberty uttered a choked sob of frustration. Nothing had been going right since learning of her lost child, it seemed.

One mitt was pressed firmly to the singed area of her thigh. The damage was done, though. Sorrel had seen reddish-pink flesh and panicked. She knew Liberty was hurt. Emery was clearly concerned, squawking in gibberish almost demandingly. Bruce, Pepper, and Steve rushed in.

"Don't touch me." Liberty grumbled glumly. "Just…keep the kids away from the stove." adjusting to resuscitation was hard. Relearning how to do _everything _with meticulousness was even harder. She felt like a monster. If she wasn't accidentally destroying things around Stark Tower, she was busy helping her friends destroy what was left of her father's family.

While Dr. Abbot strictly forbade her from phrasing it that way, Liberty couldn't help but think of it like that. _She _was testifying against her grandmother. _She _would be the nail in Caroline's coffin, for all things past _and _present. It was a sickening feeling. Despite everything Caroline had done to her, deep down Liberty couldn't help but remember that Caroline was her _grandmother_.

Caroline was her _father's_ mother. She loved her father very much. Would he be upset with her, if he were alive? Could Alexander love her if she divided the family? Liberty was under intense stress; she felt isolated and disgusting on every level.

What kind of mother couldn't keep her child, after all? What normal, respectable person stumbles around inadvertently damaging things? How could anyone love the woman locking away her own grandmother, aunt, and cousin?

She didn't know. Somehow, though, for some reason, Steve hung around. "It's okay." Steve's lips whispered against the nape of her neck as he brushed cooling pieces of peach from her burnt skin. "Come over here to the sink with me." he was gentle, as he always was, and it made Liberty's stomach turn. Steve was so composed and she was just…just…_a mess_!

He deserved better than a woman who couldn't keep a child. Steve deserved to date someone who didn't attend therapy sessions and support groups for miscarriages. Voicing how frustrated she was at the trial, at herself, at the wonderfully bittersweet genetic curse that saved her life, was impossible. Liberty settled for growling, kicking the cabinet, and biting her lip. The Super Soldier pressed his cheek against hers, rubbing his thumb carefully over the minor burns already beginning to heal.

"You're doing better than I did." he promised, kissing her cheek. "I broke a store window and upended a boutique." Steve recalled. "Think I broke a mannequin, too." his blonde brows furrowed in effort to remember, but he ultimately dismissed the thought.

"It's just hard." Liberty sniffed, cringing lightly at how whiny she seemed. No one objected against her whining, but she disliked it. The others weren't whining, and they were in the thick of it as much as she was. Tony and Steve were, anyways. Whining only added to the stress, Liberty thought.

And yet, she couldn't help it. The stress was building up. She felt confused and cornered in every aspect of her life. There was no way to create a happy ending out of any of this. At the end of the day Caroline, Polly, and Katie would still be in jail. She'd still be trying to figure out how to live in an enhanced body. Steve would tentatively invite her beneath the sheets for some romance, and they'd greet the morning with a slew of negative pregnancy tests.

Again.

It was nearly too much. She was being cheated of everything, it seemed. Tears dripped down her face. Unfortunately, they were not owed to the peach cobbler burns. Physical pain ebbed, and so would the tears it caused. Her tears stemmed from a deep-seeded emotional pain, from the feeling of everything being snatched away from her as she struggled to regain normalcy.

"It'll get better." Steve didn't bother drying her arm. He lifted it to his mouth and quietly, softly kissed the water away.

"It's not the cobbler. It's just…_me_. And…and everything, Steve!"

"I know, but it _will _get better." he interlaced the fingers of their right hands as he hugged her firmly from behind. His massive, strong hands were snuggly settled on her waist. On the stomach that would one day hold his child. Steve wasn't familiar with the term "quit", and wouldn't give up until he had a baby to replace the one Hammer stole from them. _Not replace_, Steve corrected himself, _ease. It will ease the ache_.

Nothing could ever repair that trauma.

"I'm sorry." Liberty sniffed, dropping her cheek to her shoulder to wipe her eyes. Steve had her hands occupied. "It's just…all building up."

"The grand finale's tomorrow." Steve mused. "It's smooth sailing after that."

A stone settled in her gut. The trial _was _tomorrow. Tony and Pepper's hand-selected legal team would rip Caroline to shreds. She'd be convicted by a jury of her peers. Her peers were far from delighted; the city was still recovering from the hypnotism device that caused nine drowning cases and car crashes in the hundreds.

"_God_ I hope so." sighed Liberty tiredly. She couldn't handle many more days in the maelstrom of her own mind.

It took all she had to get up and walk around hours after the news of her miscarriage. The following days were no better. Dr. Abbot made frequent beside visits. Steve was the only one who could get her out of bed when she wasn't around. Half the time she never even changed out of her pajamas; other times she'd just sit in the shower for hours on end. Holding the kids brought a certain, special relief, but it never lasted.

When Pepper or Coriander took them to the nursery for the night she'd burst into tears. The idea of anyone taking a child from her was extremely unsettling and hurtful, even if the child wasn't hers. She was just a bundle of emotions trapped in a destructive body.

_"She's going to feel very stressed, Steve. Maybe even disgusted because she's contributing to the separation of her family. Keep her relaxed to avoid a psychological breakdown. Losing the child was hard enough; she doesn't need any more negativity. Remind her that's she's not a terrible human being, and that Caroline deserves what she's getting."_

"No need to hope. It will be." Steve insisted, obeying Dr. Abbot's advice of keeping her in a positive place. Dr. Banner needed to treat the burn before it closed. If he didn't, he wouldn't feel satisfied. Disinfecting was a crucial step, and almost necessary for people sharing a tower with kids. Bruce met her at the table with a bottle of disinfectant and a small roll of bandages.

"Have to fix this up so you won't get ill." Bruce murmured, mostly to himself as he dabbed a cotton ball across the shrinking wound.

"I'm self-healing, Bruce. I won't get ill." reminded Liberty.

"I'm doing it so you can look nice and unscathed, then."

"Nice for what?"

The doctor smiled, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Oh, Steve didn't tell you? He's taking you out."

Liberty looked to her left, where he'd been standing, but saw nothing. He'd slipped away before she could ask anything about her surprise. Part of her wanted to sit in the tower and stew, but part of her wanted to just get out and _get away_. Leaving the tower would displace her from the beehive of bloodlust and stress. The idea was nice.

"What _can _you tell me? And why did he tell _you _instead of _me_?"

"He's been trying to put this together for almost two weeks." mused Bruce. "He'd come out when you were asleep and ask us for date ideas."

"And what did you decide?"

"That you'll need to put some shoes on." Bruce teased, swiping a few fingers over the balls of her feet. Liberty pouted, wiggling her toes. He _knew _she was ticklish!

"Alright, alright, stop it!" she hopped down from the table, planting her feet on the kitchen floor. It was the only way to keep them safe from Bruce. Liberty breezed to her room, shutting the door behind her as Julienne chased curiously after her. The nearly bare room shocked her again, and would until she remembered that Tony had given her and Steve a bedroom to share. She had few things coming into the tower and, looking around her room, she seemed to have less now.

What little makeup she owned sat on a vanity. Her closet was open and largely bare. A few long dresses and winter clothes had yet to be moved. She threw on a white knitted cardigan, blue tank top, and jeans while winding her hair into a bun. "Where…?" Liberty stopped, blinking stupidly at the floor of her empty closet. Her tennis shoes, at the very least, were supposed to be in there. The left one was, but the right one wasn't.

Had the kids gotten to them? She opened the door and padded to hers and Steve's room. _Maybe Pepper or Cori threw it back into the wrong room_, considered Liberty. That was not the case. A line of small, right-foot shoes stared back at her.

They were dwarfed by Steve's shoes, which sat nicely on a wooden rack beside hers. His shoes were in pairs, and as orderly as the rest of his things. "What the hell?" muttered Liberty, thoroughly confused. Bruce told her to get shoes, she looks for shoes, and fines _all _right-foot shoes! Moving to the hallway, hoping someone was close enough to call out to, she paused.

Her right-foot tennis shoe was just outside the door. She cautiously picked it up, expecting someone to jump out and scare her. Something was obviously amiss here. Liberty grabbed the partner shoe from her room and continued down the hallway. The shoes were spaced widely but in plain sight, reminding her that she didn't have many pairs.

Liberty diligently collected them, following a winding trail through the house. Collecting the last shoe brought her to the elevator that led into the garage. Highly amused and curious, Liberty set the shoes down and stepped inside. The familiar rumble of Steve's motorcycle met her ears. He killed the engine as she approached, grinning widely.

"Cinderella lost her right slipper at the ball, right? That's what it looked like, anyways." he shrugged, swinging one leg up and around the motorcycle to personally put Liberty on it. She blushed.

"You watched _Cinderella_ just to set this up?"

"It's one of your favorite movies. And yes, I did. I wanted to do something nice and meaningful for you. For us, really. We could use time away from it all."

"_Cinderella_ didn't have a motorcycle." Liberty couldn't help but tease. Steve grinned sheepishly.

"It's a modern twist on an old classic." he cleared his throat, slipping fluidly in front of her.

"Thank you." she smiled, snuggling into his back. Steve was incredibly sweet. He was probably the only man alive who would watch _Cinderella _and base a date off it.

"Don't thank me yet. We still have a dance and dinner to attend. I've got a reservation for two at Apartment de Rogers. I think that's how you'd spice it up in French, anyways." he revealed, trying his damnedest not to laugh. He failed, and found humor in his poor attempt at French. The cheesiness and unconcealed joy at the promise of being alone also made it hard to keep a straight face.

"You're too cute, Mr. Rogers."

"You must be rubbing off on me, then." he joked.

Liberty smirked, brushing her fingers lightly down his abdomen and bellybutton. Her hand slid slowly towards the crotch of his jeans. "That's a good possibility when you consider what we've been doing." she teased innocently and idly. The devilish undertone deepening her voice made Steve shiver. He caught the wayward hand before she could stroke his stiffening erection, bringing it up to his lips to kiss.

"Let's get out of here, hm? I owe you a proper date." Steve patted her hand, locking it about his waist before starting up the motorcycle. What he said was true. He _did _owe her a proper date; it was long overdue when he considered the chaos of the trial and the task of trying to make sure Caroline didn't escape the attempted murder and wrongful marriage concerning her granddaughter. It was paramount that she receive the best night of sleep possible; the trial was _tomorrow morning_. While Steve didn't the children were overly noisy, he thought it'd be best to take Liberty away from the hectic tower.

His apartment was framed by a darkening Manhattan sky streaked with the dull glow of neon signs. Steve parked the motorcycle and carried her bridal-style through the front door. Personally, it was practice for what he hoped laid ahead in their futures. If she asked, he was making up for not having a carriage, Grand Duke, mice-horse, and a footman. He'd had two weeks to plan and craft the perfect romantic environment, and it showed.

Rose petals littered the foyer and living room. He'd rearranged his furniture to make room for a circular table covered in periwinkle cloth, empty ceramic bowls, a glass vase with a rose, and two unlit candles. He guided Liberty to her chair, pulling it out. "Be right back." Steve promised, kissing her temple. Upon waking from his seventy year freeze, Steve discovered a myriad of nifty inventions.

One of them was the crockpot, and he loved it to death. The Super Soldier could create his own hearty meal and leave it while running off to fight crime. At the end of the day it would all be waiting for him, and could hold enough to actually fill him. He'd used it to make a warm, satisfying beef stew. He picked a small wire basket of rolls from the glass top, glad to see his half-formed idea actually kept them warm.

Carefully balancing two bowls of strew and a basket of rolls, Steve returned to the table. He almost collapsed it when he stubbed his booted toes on the leg. Steve grimaced, blushing. Of _course_ things would go wrong when he wanted to have a serious, meaningful date. There was never a shortage of awkward moments for the once-skinny kid from Brooklyn.

A few bites into the stew he realized there was no drink to accompany the meal. He didn't think wine would go well with beef stew. Steve dated about as much as he danced. Suddenly he was a stuttering mess querying about her choice of drink. Part of him realized that this effort wasn't needed – he and Liberty loved each other without all the finery. They were content to share one another's company – but part of him wanted to make this one count because she'd almost _died_!

They sipped water with the stew, indulging in a half-glass of wine afterwards. The serum was much weaker in Liberty's body than Steve's, but still burned through the wine. There were no traces of it as Steve started up the iPod – that was a cool invention, too, though a bit odd. It was much more convenient than maintaining his vinyls and looking for parts to a phonogram – loaded with old songs from seventy years ago. Liberty and Steve weren't drunk, they were merely plagued with two left feet.

It was adorably clumsy, their dance. Steve didn't want to step on her feet, and neither one of them knew what to do. She stood on his feet to decrease the chance of injury, but that didn't quite cut it. He still towered over her, and his lips were disappointingly out of reach. Rogers drew her up into his arms, enjoying the feeling of them being close and eye-to-eye.

Her fingers slipped over his shoulders like silk. Liberty snuggled into the inviting warmth he exuded, enjoying the scent of his Aqua Velva. Relief blossomed in her, relaxation following on its heels. His apartment was blissfully quiet, and in the dying candlelight she believed that her black world was once again brightening into what it used to be. What it was for that brief moment they slept in his bed before Dally's brother kidnapped her.

She kissed his lips; Steve brushed a thumb over one high cheekbone. The innocent motions sparked a heated session of kissing and fevered grabbing. Intimacy for the unmarried couple was infrequent and full of caution due to the trial and her miscarriage. Both were too concerned with what lay ahead, with what they were fighting, to adequately focus. That streak broke instantly; the young lovers found generous romantic compensation on the floor of Steve's apartment.

And on his bed.

Steve could've easily gone all night, fueled by the knowledge that Caroline and her horrors would be in jail tomorrow morning. Liberty couldn't, however, and he reluctantly settled for close cuddling around midnight. His right hand held her waist, pulling her close into the curve of his hips. Steve's left hand dangled off the curve of her hips, fingers brushing against her navel. Liberty's legs were hooked around his, mimicking the way her left-hand fingers were buried in his hair.

He awoke to answer a call of nature around four in the morning. Steve inhaled sleepily, peeling his eyes open to survey the scene. Liberty's warm, tiny body and the silky flesh perfectly molded to his form was great incentive to stay in bed. His bladder won, however, and he carefully got up. A decent-sized leather and velvet box caught his eye when he returned.

It'd been sitting on his nightstand for quite some time. He kept it closed, and told Liberty it housed the salvaged pocket watch with Peggy's picture. That was not the case, and he only lied to save the surprise. The engagement ring he sought to fit her finger with had been in there. It was currently in a tiny, protective bag waiting with his court clothes.

Tomorrow he would beat Tony and the others to All about the Dough. Tomorrow he and Liberty would share pumpkin bread like they had on their first encounter. Tomorrow he'd ask her to be Mrs. Steven Rogers. He promised her it'd get better, and it would. He'd make sure of it.

* * *

"How do you find on conspiracy to commit murder?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

"How do you find on solicitation to commit murder?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

"How do you find on the count of forgery?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

"How do you find on the count of arson?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

"How do you find on the count of kidnapping?"

"We find the defendant guilty."

"Caroline Ramsey I sentence you to forty years in prison. These years are to be served consecutively. You will go without parole and the chance to post bail until you pass psychiatric evaluations no longer deeming you a danger to the public."

"I…I'm not a danger!" Caroline breathed in disbelief. "I'm an aging woman for crying out loud!" she pointed out.

"You've shown a penchant for child abuse and pose a significant threat to your own flesh and blood. I deem you a public threat." the judge replied bluntly.

"But…but I'm not!" she insisted. _My god_, she thought as the uniformed policemen approached her and reached for her arms, _this is really happening. I can't get away_!

"You are. You were found guilty by a jury of your peers. Your coconspirator and previous employees proved that."

Caroline's chest heaved as she breathed rapidly. She was in full panic mode. Hammer had been sentenced and arrested mere days before her. Now it was her turn, and she was alone. Her husband refused to look at her; Katie and Polly were returned to their cells after the first guilty verdict.

Liberty was perfectly stoic, sitting next to massive Steve and polished Tony Stark. "You _bitch_!" spat Caroline. "This is all _your _fault! You're bad blood, just like Janice!"

"Don't you call me a bitch you dried up burlap sack!" roared Liberty, unable to help it. This woman had been a dark shadow looming over her whole life. Liberty had finally become immune to her venomous ways, and was fighting back. Why not, seeing as how she'd be preoccupied for the next forty years? "Keep my name and my _mother's _name out of your mouth. So help me god, if you don't, you won't have a mouth!" she snarled.

"Strange…" Caroline narrowed her eyes almost quizzically. "You still talk back with that foul mouth, even after all those years…"

Liberty hopped the wooden design separating her from Caroline. Few people could stop a little woman with an enhanced body. She slugged Caroline as hard as she could. Steve managed to wrangle her twisting form in his arms and back away. Caroline cried out, her jaw already purpling. Blood oozed from her lip.

"Not necessarily. You taught me well, Caroline. Fists talk too, right?" Liberty spat mockingly. It certainly solved _her _problem. Caroline, for the first time in Liberty's life, was silent and even _afraid _of her granddaughter. The judge banged the gavel rapidly.

"Remove the defendant!" she ordered. "Remove Ms. Ramsey, too, if necessary!"

"YOU HAVEN'T HEARD THE LAST OF ME!" stated Caroline. "I HAVE A FRIEND JUST _WAITING _TO GET AHOLD OF YOU, ROGERS! YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU EVER TESTIFIED AGAINST ME! YOU _AND_ LIBERTY!"

"I have her, your Honor." Steve assured, dragging a furious, silent Liberty out of the courtroom. He nearly dropped her, finding the stone steps hard to descend with a blinding sea of cameras flashing in his face. Tony roped an arm around her waist, stealing her from Steve. They piled into three of Tony's cars, speeding away. Pepper, Tony, and the twins occupied one car. Bruce, Cori, Emery, and Thor took another. Clint, Natasha, and Liberty brought up the rear, parking at All about the Dough some thirty minutes later.

"Time to celebrate!" Tony called out as they clogged the interior. Waitress and waiters quickly connected several tables.

"CAYYY!" gurgled Sorrel excitedly. The slowly rotating case of treats _did _look scrumptious.

"We'll get cake soon." promised Tony, kissing her little fist. The girl giggled, clapped, and began to experimentally flap the lapel of her father's suit. Steve effortlessly toted three wooden highchairs to the line of tables.

"Hey you!" Liberty's bitter, foul mood dissolved almost instantly after pecking Steve on the lips. As sad as it was to have her grandmother locked away, it was a great relief, also. With Caroline left all of her stress and worry. She finally felt _free _for the first time in a long time. Her abuser had been finally, properly punished; the largest demon she fought was vanquished at last.

Caroline was the bad girl. Not her. She was a good girl, and she was loved.

"Hey." Steve smiled, returning the peck.

"Attendant!" Thor's voice carried richly and clearly through the restaurant. "Make haste with some ale! Today we celebrate the successful end of a long and arduous battle!"

"Quiet!" admonished Pepper, "You're in a _restaurant!_"

"No alcohol for me, thanks." Bruce eyed the attendant. "Just some tea."

"No alcohol for _anyone _while we're out in public." Pepper cast her motherly glare across the table, eyes lingering on Thor. Eventually, he folded. Only begrudgingly.

"I shall have coffee, then." he responded almost childishly.

A loaf of pumpkin bread in a golden-brown pan was brought to the table. Several smaller appetizers followed. Tony resisted the urge to drum his fingers on the table. Steve told him the whole idea – they'd put the ring in a loaf with a pan colored differently than the rest. Said loaf sat on the table the _entire _brunch.

Unless he was working on an invention, Tony was seldom a man of patience. He couldn't understand why Steve wasn't bursting at the seams to ask Liberty to be his wife. Yes, he was old-fashioned, but even old-fashioned people gave in once in a while, right? The whole "no sex before marriage" thing had definitely been overlooked (according to Clint and Natasha, anyways). Steve noticed the light creasing of his face, subduing Tony's unspoken question by secretively tapping his lip with a finger as he sipped from his glass of tea.

Bruce was curious, too. Thor had been strategically placed between Natasha and Clint; they were the buffer system preventing him from ruining the surprise. The curiosity and confusion was written all over his face, though. Liberty was sure to pick up on it if something didn't happen soon. Always cool under pressure – excluding the very large and obvious incident where he'd nearly murdered Hammer bare-handed – Steve ordered a small box for the untouched loaf of pumpkin bread.

He paid for his and Liberty's meal, offering his elbow as they moved outside. Tony and the others were close behind. Steve wouldn't dare ask for her hand without them to see it. They'd become a team in every sense of the word; they were all there when Bruce asked Cori to marry him, and when Tony and Pepper got married, and he suspected they'd want to continue the tradition. Honestly, he enjoyed the few quiet moments of reflection.

It was ironic and perfect. They were standing at the very same table he'd hid under as a dog, pressed against her side. A smile twisted his lips at the memory of her tossing pieces of pumpkin bread to him. That memory gave him the idea of how to present the ring. Pumpkin bread symbolized their first bonding moment, their first interaction, and Steve only thought it was appropriate to have the pumpkin bread introduce the long-lasting, eternal bond of matrimony.

Steve popped the Styrofoam box lid open, beginning to search for the ring. He picked a few top pieces off and flicked them down to the accumulating pigeons. Liberty broke off an end piece; Steve was happy to find the ring wasn't in her hand. That would be a bit awkward, and would slightly skew the fantasy he had of finding it, bending down on one knee, and putting it on her finger. His long, callused fingers finally hit the band.

"Hold this for me?" Steve pulled the chunk of pumpkin bread into his fist.

"Sure." Liberty took the little box, wondering what Steve was going to do. She assumed he was going to feed the pigeons. Or hurl the chunk of bread so they'd quit collecting around their feet.

"Liberty, will you be Mrs. Steve Rogers?" she dropped the box. Pigeons cooed excitedly and swarmed it in a flurry of feathers and beaks. Steve blew flecks of pumpkin bread off the ring and swatted pigeons away as the chunk of bread fell near his bended knees.

"Ow! _Ow_!" Liberty kicked away a pigeon pecking insistently at the crumb wedged between her toes. Open-toed shoes were a bad idea. "Yes!" she sat on Steve's bended knee, folding her legs upwards and back to save her toes from the pigeons.

"I love you." Steve kissed her hand, then her lips.

"I love _you_!" Liberty kissed him back, throwing her arms happily around his strong neck.

"Can we go now? Preferably before the pigeons eat Emery?" Coriander wondered, rotating the stroller to scare off brave pigeons. The dumb birds didn't think his loud squawks were amusing. Emery just liked hearing them coo and watching them flap and fly away in startle. He was too young to realize they'd swarm him in a group if given the chance. Like Hulk, he enjoyed a little bit of chaos.

Steve didn't answer her. He carried Liberty over to his motorcycle instead, depositing her on the seat. He watched the parents load their children, always vigilant of the small and vulnerable. With a gigantic, jovial grin, Stark said in earshot of Steve, "Who wants to get in on my betting pool? I think we'll have a mini-Rogers before Christmas." he teased.

The Super Soldier blushed. Steve shot him a gentle, amused glare before revving the engine and taking off.

* * *

Bleary-eyed, Steve stumbled back to their shared bedroom. Liberty had held out as long as she could, but it was pointless. She snored softly, curled up patiently on her side of their bed. One small arm was stretched out over the empty space he usually claimed, and it melted his heart. Everyone drank in celebration of the recently engaged couple, especially the newlyweds.

Liberty was unaccustomed to the quick cycling of alcohol through her modified body. Steve was, and he'd been able to hold out longer than her. Constantly fluttering between drunk and sober – even if it was only temporary, even if it was only off of wine – had done a number on his bride-to-be. He'd cut himself off after the ninth beer and fourth glass of wine. JARVIS needed help cleaning up the confetti and collecting the dishes, anyways.

Steve slipped into bed, not bothering to mess with his cotton pants of modesty. He draped her arm across his shoulder, half-pulling his young bride-to-be onto his chest. Liberty absently shifted and tucked herself into the crook of his left arm while her head found purchase near his neck. Their hearts synchronized in the last few waking moments Steve allowed himself. A handful of thoughts meandered through his sleepy mind.

He smiled toothily as the thought struck him. Everything had worked out, he realized. Everything was as it should be. Caroline and Hammer had been convicted, and he had his girl. The chase was over, and he'd won.


	19. Epilogue: Sarah Star Rogers

The Pursuit of Liberty

* * *

**AN: **Thanks to Maymayliu and H. E. Vaughn for reviewing the last chapter.

To Maymayliu: Bruce and Cori's engagement and wedding was actually described in chapter seventeen of _Doctor Patient Confidentiality_ :). Your chapter for _Initiative: Romance_ will be out soon, by the way.

If anyone is wondering, "Sarah" is the name of Steve's mother. I picked "Star" for the middle name because I wasn't ready to let go of my penchant for interesting names. That, and it lines up with Liberty's unique name as well as Steve's identity as Captain America. I tried to do something with Independence (shortening it to "Indie") but it didn't work out very well :/.

As with the epilogue in _Doctor Patient Confidentiality_, this chapter will jump around. Also, my order for the wedding may be out of sorts. I'm not actually married so I don't know how the process goes xD. Did anybody know that Robert Downey Junior sings? I didn't. Apparently he does. I don't know whether to be in awe or concerned that my friend can find little things like this on the web (I make no habit of Googling celebrities, you see).

Not proof-read. I'm very tired. It's early here, where I live. Wee small hours of the morning and whatnot.

Hope you've enjoyed Steve's story! I don't have class on Monday (holiday) so I might be able to get _Romancing Captain Rogers _up by then.

* * *

Epilogue: Sarah Star Rogers

"Repeat after me, Steven." the preacher began.

Blushing, trying not to look directly at the young, veiled bride before him lest he succumb to the tears building in his eyes, Steve nodded. He cleared his throat slightly, hoping that would help with the speaking that was to come. A soft November draft hummed gently, sending Liberty's obscuring silk-and-lace navy blue veil fluttering. The long sleeves of her navy blue-royal blue gown tickled his large, shaking hands. Liberty pinched his fingers lovingly between hers.

They were pink-cheeked from the wind and from delight. She wanted to marry him in his uniform, and Steve had obliged. He couldn't really figure out _why_ Liberty wanted such a thing; Steve just assumed traditional tuxes and white dresses still startled her. It had been a mere ten weeks since the trial. Reconfirming every injustice she'd been dealt – from Caroline's abuse to Hammer's forceful near-marriage – left healing wounds slightly open and fresh.

She was beginning to heal, though. Steve was happy to see the loving shimmer return full force to her eyes. A baby worked wonderful, mysterious magic. Dr. Carrington sat between Dr. Abbot and Juanta, and smiled widely as if he knew Steve was thinking about him. They had a handful of people attend the outdoor wedding; most of the important figures served in the wedding as bridesmaids or groomsmen.

Fury, Hill, Sharon Carter, and a handful of welcome-but-foreign members from the Callari family had shown up. Liberty had fuzzy recollections of them, but welcomed them nonetheless. Hardly anyone on the Ramsey side wanted anything to do with her after the trial. The only exception was her grandfather, who sat brightly in the front row with Juanta. Steve had no one to represent his family, and it was that fact that almost led Liberty to insist on a private wedding, but Steve wouldn't have that.

His dream involved happy friends and family waiting to see his gal. Steve's parents were long gone, as was anyone he'd known from childhood, so he had to make those memories by any means possible. Her family was technically his family now – or would be after today – so he figured it still counted. Nothing would muddle the joy and excitement of today, not even his usually inquiring, technical mind.

"I, Steven."

"I, S-Steven."

"Am scared." giggled Tony, unable to help it. Steve turned hot blue eyes to his teammate, daring him to soil the sanctity of the vows. Emery squawked from his position in the stroller to the right of the groomsmen, throwing the ring pillow as if to chastise his father's best friend. The rings were now being held by Pepper and Tony respectively. Steve gave the children the pillows as a means to keep them quiet.

The preacher's lips twisted in a small smile.

"Take you, Liberty, to be my wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

"T-take you, Liberty, to be m-my wife. To have and to h-hold, from this day forward, for be-better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in s-sickness and in health, until death do us part." repeated Steve. He didn't know if crying or fumbling over the words would be worse. At this point, it would be easy and understandable to do both.

His day had finally come. That realization, alone, was enough to make Steve cry. He shouldn't be alive. Being frozen in ice for seventy years shouldn't be possible, and yet, it happened. He'd finally gotten the girl of his dreams thanks to some odd science.

It was baffling and beautiful, much like his young bride. Liberty was cloaked in a long dress mostly made from royal blue material. The outer layer was silk, a cool contrast to the warm, velvet under-layer made of red. Random bits – the shoulders, a thin cuff at the elbows, and slimming sections riding her flanks down to her ankles – were colored navy blue. Fitted under her soon-to-be-engorged-with-milk breasts was the beginning of a loosely tied corset structure done in red.

She was his patriotic dream.

Liberty wasn't fond of white, not after Hammer forcing her into the dress, but convinced herself to wear white earrings to complete the image. They were small and star-shaped; without them her veil would seem a bit silly. Said veil was situated on a thin band of dark blue stars buried deep in her curly, red hair. She'd organized the colors to support Steve, to show her love for the one and only captain in her life. He was gorgeous and polished in his uniform and shoes.

Though she wasn't familiar with the Catholic religion – she didn't have any memories of her parent's preferences – Liberty was happy to let Steve pick the church. His father was a devout Irish Catholic. She didn't have the heart to dictate what he could and couldn't do. Not when she loved him. Not when it was to pay respects to his father.

"Now you, Liberty." he turned to her, wispy brown hair parted similar to Steve's. It shuddered slightly as another light gust of wind whispered.

"Okay." she sniffed, chuckling to herself because she was already hoarse with tears. The November chill made Steve's arms seem alluring and warm. She was tempted to do the rest of the wedding from his embrace. There she'd be safe, warm, and happy.

"I, Liberty," he said

"I, Liberty," she parroted.

"Take you, Steven, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life."

"Take you, Steven, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life."

"And the baby." murmured Steve. The vows applied perfectly to their unborn child, too. He was sure there would be times when they dabbed at a runny nose and spooned chicken soup into a tiny mouth. Steve was also sure the child would have stints of rowdiness that tried their patience. Regardless of what the child did or didn't do, though, they would always show love.

"And the baby." agreed Liberty. They were still unsure as to what gender it would be, but they didn't care. As long as it survived to be born, they would love it. Hammer had stolen the first baby; they would get this one.

"You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide. Amen." the preacher stated.

"Amen." answered the guests and wedding parties.

"The time has come, Steven, to present the ring. You shall place it upon Liberty's finger as a symbol of your undying love. Like the strong and circular bond of the ring, may the love between you and your beloved be perpetual and unbroken." Tony strode over, a softer version of his shit-eating grin in place. Clapping Steve on the back, he handed off the ring. Steve pinched it between his fingers, hoping to hell he didn't drop it. He slid it shakily onto Liberty's little finger, kissing her knuckle as if to apologize for his nerves.

"You may now present the ring, Liberty. Place it upon Steven's finger with the love and gentleness you intend to show him for the rest of his life." Pepper handed it off and she wiggled it onto his large, long finger. She smoothed her thumbs over his trembling hand. "Mr. Rogers, you may now kiss the bride. As the couple engages in their first kiss of togetherness, I'd like to introduce them as Mr. and Mrs. Steven Rogers."

Rice was thrown. The kids highly enjoyed making a mess of the little grains. "Oh no, no Sorrel! Don't-yucky!" Pepper shook her head, trying to hide her laugh as Sorrel spit out a handful of grains. They were not for eating, deduced the Stark child. Steve pulled back, heart thrumming wildly, and smiled dazedly at his wife.

"Are you doing alright?" he asked, "Keeping your heart rate normal?"

"As normal as it can be." Liberty assured.

"Good." Steve squeezed her hand. Dr. Carrington, Bruce, and Tony had come to speculate that Liberty lost the first child due to the rate of growth. Her panic and adrenaline had excited traces of Steve's DNA. Though it was diluted, it was enough to tweak her metabolism since his sperm was trapped in her egg. The rapid heart rate brought on by her fear caused the unborn child's growth to occur at a pace that startled the body and triggered its defensive responses.

Like Bruce, they'd come to learn, Liberty had to avoid stressors and a high pulse. A cantering heart influenced the flow of blood, and the flow of blood energized her already active cells. Prolonged stints of excitement could speed up the baby's growth and leave a higher chance of an abnormality occurring. Or it could fracture Liberty from the inside. Steve wanted neither of those things to happen.

It would be harder for Liberty to lose the child since the blood transfusion. Her body was more equipped to handle Steve's altered sperm. The task, now, was to keep her _own_ body from going into overdrive. That was easy to do on the wedding front; Liberty was a fairly simple and low-maintenance woman where extravagance was concerned.

Little to no stress had been experienced on her part. Steve was her knight in shining armor, her soldier, and she'd set her heart on honoring that theme. It made the colors easy to pick out. Steve's attire was taken care of, and having Steve relaxed kept _her_ relaxed. Her stomach grumbled; Liberty turned her head, utilizing enhanced nostrils to pick up the scent of sweet buttercream icing.

Her mouth watered.

"Line up for the bouquet toss!" demanded Liberty. "I'm ready for cake!"

"CAYYY!" Sorrel willingly dropped her bag of rice.

"Cayy?" double-checked Julienne with Sorrel, blinking.

"Me cayy!" Emery hadn't misheard. He wanted cake. His little mind had come to associate Liberty with all kinds of cool, sweet treats like her icing flowers and cake pops. Emery crawled carefully up the steps, leading the way, and held a fistful of blue fabric in his hand.

"Cake!" Liberty cheered as she carefully turned around, throwing the bouquet blindly. She then hiked her leg up, carefully, for Steve to remove the garter. Giggling, Julienne ducked under to treat the velvet under-layer and top layer of silk like a hidey-hole. Liberty chuckled as the little boy's hair brushed her thighs. He was busy trying to coax Emery into the space with him, and trying to get Sorrel to find him.

"Atta boy! Start early!" Tony smiled.

"TONY!" Pepper hissed.

Janice's twin, Jane, caught the bouquet. It meant nothing since all of her aunts were married, but it was still fun. Clint wisely chose to stay out of the foray this time. Coriander's wedding had nearly gotten him mauled! He didn't think it smart to face off against older women still coasting down from menopause.

Instead, he picked a star-shaped pin from Natasha's hair and offered it to her. She looked better without her hair pulled back, anyways. He was rewarded with the minutest of smiles. They were closer than partners should be, but both agreed that trying for a child would be too dangerous. Unlike Tony, they were assassins.

They couldn't afford to abandon the only life they knew for changing diapers and trying to be normal.

"C'mon, kids! Time for cake!" Julienne let the fabric slide over him with one last laugh. The touch of silk and velvet tickled. He grabbed the end of Liberty's dress like Emery and Sorrel; they followed her in like ducks pulled by a string. Steve grinned, mindful of his feet and the excited children as he stayed on Liberty's right. Agreeing that it was best to reduce stress, Pepper and Tony offered to turn a floor of Stark Tower into a reception-similar area.

Neither Steve nor Liberty wanted to spend a lot of money, and the solution seemed to please all parties. Steve wanted to minimize the chance of Liberty being hurt, and Liberty wanted food she could trust. Caterers were about nothing but pleasing their clients; her strange demands would be met without question. That, and her mother had once been a caterer.

She missed her mother. It was her way of paying tribute to the lovely woman. The wedding party squeezed into two limos and drove to Stark Tower. A sea of eager reporters waited outside, cameras at the ready. "Oh no." Steve frowned, peering out the lightly tinted windows, "are you okay? How's your heart?"

"It's fine, Steve." Liberty squeezed her hand. No one would stop her from getting cake. She'd handmade her cake. It two-layered with blue fondant and red trim. The edges were lined with white ribbons and edible sugar cookie stars.

Thor emerged, his massive frame forcing the crowd to part as Cori, Pepper, and Tony brought the children through. Liberty and Steve followed, protected by Clint, Natasha, and Bruce. Steve, seizing the golden fantasy moment he'd been waiting for his whole life, scooped Liberty up and carried her over the threshold of Stark Tower's entrance. Once Tony picked Callari members from the swarm, they continued on to the twenty-first floor.

He'd picked the twenty-first floor because Liberty was twenty-one. Tony felt quite clever for incorporating the small detail. The floor was a neutral pale caramel; it made a good base for the decorations and the wedding colors. It was obvious by the six tables that they had much more room at their disposal than what they would actually need, but few cared. Each table was dressed in a flowing, dyed cloth styled to resemble Steve's shield.

The bottoms of the cloths were lined in tiny, cute white ribbons. They tied into the lone scraps of lace and silk roped around each slim vase. Steve personally picked the flowers – dark red for undying love, and white for commitment. One violet sat in the center of the vase at their table. It was the only one, and it represented the day he went into the lab and kissed her forehead.

A stretch of floor reserved for dancing separated the tables from the buffet. Four small speakers, stacked in twos, marked the middle of the room. To the right of the buffet table sat their untouched wedding cake. Arm in arm, they strolled to the cake. Enveloping her in his arms, Steve curled his fingers atop Liberty's and softly spliced the cake.

"OOO-EY!" Julienne ran up, pointing to the cookie they'd nudged aside with the knife. Liberty plucked the iced cookie, giving it to Julienne.

"Me ooo-ey!" Sorrel toddled up to the cake. Emery pointed bashfully as he stood beside the impressive cake. The photographer snapped another shot of Liberty doling out cookie pieces. He stretched up on his tiptoes, patting the cake with his cookie.

"No, Emery! No!" Cori snagged him before Sorrel and Julienne caught on to what he'd done. The little boy gummed the frosting, little nails stained with icing. Steve kissed her temple, chuckling. Dr. Carrington confirmed that Liberty was pregnant, and he wondered what gender and personality the child would have. They were to see him twice a week so he could track how fast the baby was developing.

Not counting for any unforeseen stressors, Carrington estimated the baby would only be early by a few days. Steve's blood was largely diluted with her own even though they had the same blood type. Keeping her heart rate low and her stomach full would placate the active cells wanting to charge her pregnant body with energy. Liberty cupped a corner piece of cake in her palm, topping it with a star cookie as she offered it to Steve. The super soldier kissed her ring before picking up the caking and taking a bite out of it.

His lips were stained blue and red when he finished. Grinning, Liberty stretched up on her toes to kiss his colored mouth. Steve severed a small square of cake, not wanting to fill his large hand with a piece impossible for her to eat. Liberty popped the square in her mouth, shuddering slightly as the explosion of sweetness blanketed and dimmed the craving welling up within her. It was inexplicably comforting to sate a craving.

Liberty and Steve worked like a fluid machine, setting rows of cake-filled plates in the open space beside the drink cups and finger sandwiches. "Would you like to eat or dance?" asked Liberty. Steve grinned, spotting the homemade cherry pie that had been hiding in the Tower fridge since yesterday. Stealing a piece was tempting, but so was dancing with her and hoping to feel a sign of the little life within her. He could tell she was hungry, though, and wouldn't dare deny her food.

"Let's eat, then dance." offered Steve. "The others will gravitate to the food and we'll have a better chance of being alone on the dance floor." he pointed out. Liberty had orchestrated a menu that was both kid- and craving-friendly. She made sure Steve was happy with the choices before anything was done. Her soldier would never go without food, that much she promised.

The more she thought about food during the planning phase, the more her tastes differed. Thinking of cheese had her mind drifting to delicious nachos, and then to something with feta and spinach. Needless to say picky eaters could find something on the buffet. Liberty had breakfast items, desserts, dips for peta bread chips, pizza-like items, chicken wings, turkey meatballs, croutons, and Mexican dishes. She picked up a Steve-and-Thor sized plate, handed one to her husband, and then took one for herself.

Her mind clamored for potatoes smothered in cheese, Dijon, and jelly. Filling her plate with turkey meatballs, finger sandwiches, feta-spinach pastries, polentas, and cherry pie filling topped with stuffing typically reserved for Thanksgiving turkey, she waited patiently for Steve. After living through Pepper and Cori's pregnancies Steve was hardly fazed by the weird cravings to come. He escorted her to their table, pulling out her chair. Liberty saw the other Avengers take turns watching children as a line formed.

Steve refused to let her cook all of her own wedding's food, but was glad she was stubborn. The pie was delicious, and she'd even made her on whipped cream! Before watching her make the whipped cream, Steve didn't know it could be done! He assumed a lot of the old-fashioned methods had been traded for simplicity and the fancy contraptions he'd woken up to find. Halfway through her second plate the lead caterer came out.

Liberty dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "It's lovely!" she smiled. "You're knocking all my cravings right out of the park." the young mother patted her stomach. The team of cooks had done well to avoid her nausea trigger foods: ham, cinnamon, seafood, and onions. Their leader and coordinator had one last surprise, and revealed flutes filled with cherry gelatin, vanilla pudding, a thin crust of gram crackers, whipped cream, and blueberries.

It matched the red, white, and blue theme well. And it was delicious. Congratulating them, shaking their hands, the chef turned his cooks into a wait staff that dispersed the flutes. Liberty didn't deny herself food, but was mindful of her intake since they still had to dance. It was all just _so good_!

Steve invited Liberty for a dance, their dance, when she'd cleaned her plate. Blushing, Liberty accepted. He was devilishly handsome in his uniform with his hair parted like an innocent, clean-shaven man. His eyes twinkled in the muted, generous lighting. Friends and family smiled cheerily from the tables, keeping clear of the floor as "Oh, You Beautiful Doll" played.

He vaguely wondered if she'd picked the song because of that drunken dance on Stark's bar. As if sensing his question, she nodded while they spun carefully. Liberty planned to dance with her grandfather and Tony. Both had led her up to the alter…to Steve. On the one hand, her grandfather was the closest substitution to her father; on the other, Tony had known her since she was a child.

She danced to "It Had to be You" with her grandfather. He was highly apologetic for what had happened in her childhood, and could never properly apologize for Caroline, but intended to. Now was not the time, however. Mr. Ramsey held her close, held her as gently as she should've been treated those years ago, and crooned in his aged, whispery voice. It lit Liberty's face like it always had; that eased the guilt a fraction.

Tony stole her for the last dance. "The Way You Look Tonight" was faster than the previous songs, but he pretended it wasn't. Liberty didn't need to be jerked around in the classic swinging fashion. She had delicate cargo, after all. Stark was highly amused that he was once again dancing with the young woman; she was too young to remember, but he recalled several incidents when she'd cackle like mad to his playful, poor attempt at dancing.

The sight had earned him several coos and pinches from older, curvaceous women. And peeks at their cleavage. As Tony spun and swayed Liberty looked at couples dancing carefully along the fringe of the area. Pepper danced with Thor, Cori with Bruce, Steve with Natasha, and Clint with Juanta. Steve's eyes met hers and he smiled softly.

Even from across the room, even with a partner in his arms, Steve looked at her like she was the only girl in the room. She blushed. The time for dancing drew to a close, inviting family conversations. She was just as lost as Steve when it came to these people, and she was glad for that. It eased their awkwardness.

She picked up one last plate to nibble on as the conversation began. A fake pizza dish made of Swiss cheese, cream cheese, chives, garlic, turkey, and a helping of ketchup and cheese was too good to ignore when paired with pickles and mustard-y honey barbeque wings. With her belly full and her husband close, Liberty began to doze. Steve was soft and warm. "Are you ready to go home?" Steve stooped to inquire.

Liberty nodded.

Stark politely dismissed everyone shortly after. Dr. Banner and Dr. Carrington were quick to say pregnant women needed plenty of sleep. Kissing Juanta's cheeks, hugging her grandfather, and squeezing the hands of Callaris she had forgotten, Liberty said goodbye to everyone. Though she initially declined Pepper and Tony's offer to rearrange a floor of Stark Tower, she was happy they did it. It would now be that much easier to change out of her wedding attire and snuggle with Steve in casual clothes.

Stark Tower fell quiet an hour later. Liberty stroked her stuffed stomach happily, lounging back in their shared bed. Steve's arms were wound loosely around her hips. The Super Soldier had made a habit of kissing her belly and talking to it. Most of the time he fell asleep against her swelling stomach. He rolled over to his side, enjoying the view of his wife's bellybutton, the smooth lines of her torso, and her sleepy face.

"I love you, Mrs. Rogers."

"Love you too, Mr. Rogers." yawned Liberty, scratching fondly at his hair.

* * *

"Can we go in? Please, Steve? Oh _please_? Just look at that _face_!" Liberty cooed, breath slightly fogging the icy window of the pet store. Steve couldn't help but grin. Suddenly getting her back to the tower to obey her bed rest order didn't seem so important. She'd somehow convinced him to let her tag along, stating that being on bed rest in the tower was getting too boring. Thinking that the trip to the store wouldn't be long, Steve caved.

He was right. The trip to the store _hadn't_ been long. It was the trip _back_ that left Steve feeling antsy. She was warmly dressed, fighting off the December winter, but was still _out_ and _up_. She should _really _be home resting.

"Alright." Steve swept his eyes over the litter of advertised twelve-week-old blonde Labrador puppies. He couldn't really tell her no when the snowy pups looked familiar. It warmed him like a hot cup of soup to know she still had a soft spot for puppies that resembled his canine form. Liberty made a beeline for the plastic playroom housing eight rambunctious puppies. She knew what one she wanted before even entering the store.

It was the runt, she thought. While trying to line the windows like its brothers and sisters, it had been knocked underfoot and caused the feeble line to collapse. The littlest one would chase down toys, only to be bowled over by another before it arrived. Trying to cuddle up to another puppy only got it half-smashed with excited love. After washing her hands and catching the interest of an attendant, Liberty picked it up.

The attendant told her it was a boy. He folded into her hands like he'd been made for her. Dark brown-black eyes peered at her as he whimpered and stumbled closer, seeking warmth and contact. Liberty was happy to oblige. She cupped the darling pup to her shoulder, heart quaking with awe and adoration as it seemed to rest its head against her.

"Please, Steve?"

"I don't know, Lib. How do we know the kids won't be allergic to dogs?"

"They weren't allergic to _you_! And I just can't turn him away, Steve! Look, he _loves_ me!" Liberty kissed his furry little cheek. The puppy whimpered and brushed against her, clearly cuddling and seeking the warm crook of her neck. "He could grow up to protect the kids!" she pointed out. Steve and the others weren't always going to be home, after all. He continued to let her bait him, secretly amused.

Steve had actually always wanted a puppy. It completed his fantasy. He turned to the attendant. "Does it have all its shots?"

"That one is a _boy_," smiled the worker, "and yes, he does. But are you _sure _you want that one? Runts aren't always the safest investment, and I'm obligated to tell you that before your purchase."

"He's perfect." Liberty kissed his little head. "I like the runts, anyways." she winked at Steve. He blushed.

"Perfect!" the young man led them to the checkout counter. Liberty unwound her scarf to use it as the puppy's personal blanket. Steve nearly finishing paying for the pup, but I.D tags caught his eyes.

"What are you going to name him?" Steve turned to Liberty. Her lips puckered thoughtfully as she stroked her fingers carefully along his tiny spine.

"Lieutenant." she replied at last. "I can't name him Captain. I've already got my captain. So, he can be a Lieutenant! Lou can be his nickname."

"One collar and tag." Steve added to the order. Lou may not be big enough now, but he'd grow into the collar. He inscribed the tag with Liberty's cellphone number and his while the order was being finished. Glowing brightly with mirth, Liberty walked back to the vehicle he'd bought after news of her pregnancy. The couple managed to make it back to Stark Tower before the groceries spoiled or froze.

"Oh Steve, thank you!" Liberty showered him generously with kisses. Steve was happy he'd just parked the vehicle. If not, she might have caused him to wreck. Her kisses numbed his mind quicker than the fiercest cold, and he'd been in the mountains hunting Red Skull decades ago! Just when Steve was getting into it, when he considered lightly pinning her to his body and indulging in a languid battle of tongues, she broke apart to present the newly christened Lieutenant.

Steve got a mouthful of excited puppy gums and puppy breath. He jerked away, making a _blah!_ sound as he brushed his tongue and guarded his lips. Liberty laughed so hard she nearly peed. Lieutenant whined when she put him down to help with the groceries, but Liberty amended that by scooping him up and holding him close. It was easy to see he'd be a Momma's Boy dog.

Tony stopped short, eyeing the dog with suspicion and amusement. The kids were overjoyed at the sight of the little furry creature, reaching out to hold him. "No, no!" Liberty chided gently, "He's too little! You have to wait a little while until he's bigger."

"Getting another Captain?" he teased.

"Nope." Liberty smiled, "He's Lou the Lieutenant!"

"Well if Lou the Lieutenant craps in my house, or ruins my shoes, he's going to be _glue _the Lieutenant!" warned Tony lightly. Pepper smacked him. "It was a joke!" he cried out, scurrying away from her. Liberty laughed.

"Look at him!" cooed Pepper, "He's sleeping!"

"He's tired from being so cute!" Cori smiled.

"Your shoes are safe, Tony." Liberty assured. "Him's gonna be a good little man and stay out of trouble." she rocked her torso carefully from side to side, treating the puppy as if he were a snoozing child on her shoulder.

"I don't know whether to hail you or frown at you." mused Tony, stroking his goatee. "On the one hand, you've brought a puppy into a tower full of badasses, one of which is capable of crushing him underfoot." said Tony, motioning to Thor. "On the other, you've successfully given her something that will keep her calm during the hormonal hell transpiring in her body."

"Hail him." advised Liberty. "Then say goodbye because he and I have an appointment with that_ lovely_ sprig of mistletoe above our bedroom door." Liberty grinned up at him, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. Steve flushed a bright, unmistakable scarlet. Dr. Carrington _did _warn him that her hormones would be erratic, as would her sensibility and state of arousal. Still, he wasn't expecting her to say those kinds of things _out loud!_

And yet, he was excited. They'd sworn off vaginal sex for the baby's safety. Have a child capable of growing at an accelerated rate, Steve didn't want to chance anything. Liberty didn't, either. She toted Lieutenant to their bedroom, Steve's scarf and jacket collar surely gripped in her free hand.

Liberty tucked the dog in his scarf-made bed, depositing him gingerly on a fleece blanket-wrapped pillow atop Steve's drawing desk. She didn't dare take the chance of leaving him on the bed. Not when she intended to put Steve on it. _Tis the season_, thought Steve before his tiny, pregnant wife seized him as best she could with her slightly enhanced strength and sent them back into the bed.

* * *

The kids' first birthdays, Christmas, and Liberty's twenty-second birthday had come and gone. Dizzyingly, swiftly, it all led up to Steve's birthday. _She looks like she's about to pop_, mused Steve. Dr. Carrington said Sarah would arrive any day now. Whether she was days or a half-day from her delivery, he couldn't be sure. With a genetically enhanced child, it was unpredictable. Luckily, Bruce, being a doctor, could keep him informed on her dilation rate.

Steve thought Sarah coming into the world would be a wonderful birthday present. All the waiting and conversations had led up to this moment. It was a bittersweet pain, Liberty offering to name the child after his mother, but it was one he welcomed. Though she had no ill feelings for Peggy, Liberty requested – but couldn't mandate – Steve not pick that name for their child. They'd met halfway on the name, deciding to keep the interesting, theme-like relation of 'Liberty' and 'Captain America' alive.

Sarah Star Rogers would soon greet the world. Or so he hoped. Steve's hospital bag had been packed and waiting by the foot of the bed for almost four days now. He prayed nothing went wrong for this child like it had for the first. If something did happen – _god forbid!_ he knocked on the wooden extensions of the circular grill – it needed to happen _tomorrow_.

They were scheduled to return to Manhattan tomorrow. He just had to make it until tomorrow. Tomorrow they'd be back amongst familiar, noisy streets and hospitals with proper equipment and quick-acting staff.

"Happy birthday, honey." Liberty stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and Steve's free hand shot out to curl protectively around her waist.

Being up on her toes, she didn't have her normal balance. Steve didn't want any accidents or incidents to befall his girls. "Thank you." he smiled down at her, pecking her on the lips. Tony had invited them to one of his many "homes away from home" to give Steve and his pregnant wife a break from the city noise. They were settled cozily in a massive house fitted with JARVIS and miles of thick, tall trees.

It was peaceful, Steve had to admit. He wasn't used to a song of nighttime animals and tree branches rustling, but it was nice. The scent of undisturbed earth and sweet trees met his nose. It was succulently accented by the burgers and vegetables he grilled. White, plastic tables had been set up for the children on and off the cement block connected to house door.

A sprinkle of chairs dented the lush, green grass, and were filled with his chatting teammates casually sipping various drinks. Kid toys littered the lawn. The fence separating wildlife from manicured lawn wasn't white or picket-styled, but he'd take it. Flush against said fence sat a cooler full of drinks for adults and children. It decreased the necessity of adults returning to the house and leaving the children unsupervised.

That wasn't truly a worry for the group, though. The number of adults far outweighed the number of children. Liberty presented him with a cupcake. She'd just recently started bringing out her kitchen creations. Steve licked frosting off his thumb and lips, grinning as Lieutenant carefully rolled on Emery to snuggle with him.

He was also defending the treat table, as instructed. Lieutenant was still incredibly young for his breed, but Steve was already conditioning him to be an attentive, loving guard dog. It was a work in progress. Lou listened to him, but not with the ease or quickness that he did Liberty. Steve didn't mind; Lieutenant was still young.

And he didn't have the almost-motherly bond with the dog that Liberty did.

Liberty jumped slightly, wincing. Steve arched a golden eyebrow at her. "Is she kicking?" he set the spatula down next to the tongs, glad the circular grill had wooden extensions. His wife nodded, motioning for his now-empty hand.

"You know you can't give just _one _of us affection, daddy." teased Liberty. Sarah always made a commotion if she couldn't feel her daddy. She was going to be a daddy's girl, Liberty knew. She'd been right with Lieutenant, and she'd be right with Sarah. Once Steve's massive, warm hand settled on Liberty's flesh, the child settled.

Sarah shifted towards her father's hand as if she could see it through her flesh and bone cocoon. Liberty sighed, content that Sarah had been quieted before she kicked out one of her ribs. Or worse. Her daughter could now resume demanding odd food combinations. "Please tell me those are almost done?" Liberty drummed her fingers over her baby-swollen tummy, channeling Sarah's cravings and laying out a plan to have them all in her mind.

_Pickles, buffalo sauce, ranch, cheese, ketchup, Dijon, and maybe some grape jelly_, decided Liberty. Clint worked the second grill, splitting up the food load so Steve wouldn't be stuck cooking the entire time. The two were trying to time the hot dogs, steak, and hamburgers (turkey and beef) so they came off at the same time. It seems that it worked, too. Pepper and Natasha corralled the kids before they could figure out how water balloons were _really_ supposed to be used.

Lieutenant managed to bust a few as the kids dropped them or kicked them across the ground. He'd even intercepted a few from Thor, who was learning the game from Tony. Bruce stayed out of it until Tony purposefully threw one in his face. Then he got Coriander _and_ Bruce involved. It made an amusing sight for their invited guests: Mr. Ramsey, Dr. Abbot, and Juanta.

"Time to eat, guys!" Pepper called out to the larger children (Thor and Tony). Coriander reluctantly withdrew from her advantageous hiding spot, a bit too into the competition. _At least we won't have so many balloon pieces to pick from the cooler now_, grinned Mrs. Stark as Coriander proceeded to break up chips to accompany Emery's carefully diced hotdog. Satisfied with his work, Bruce set the plate down before his son. Liberty carefully waddled around the kid table, handing out small milkshakes with multicolored star sprinkles.

Vanilla milkshakes were one of Steve's favorites, after all. Cherry pie bites had also been added to his birthday menu. Liberty would pull out all the stops for her marvel of a husband. He was the hunkiest, sweetest should-be-ninety-year-old she knew! She piled her plate with two of her dream burgers, hoping the strangely delicious concoction would keep Sarah quiet for a while.

It was wishful thinking. Sarah always wanted dill pickle chips dipped in nacho cheese topped with stuffing and croutons, regardless of how much Liberty ate. Why, Liberty didn't know. She just knew it was important to keep all of those ingredients in Stark Tower. The young woman could easily eat a whole jar of pickles that way.

The strange snack had taken precedence over her desire to eat anything and everything smothered in nothing less than grape jelly, hot sauce, sour cream, and chili sauce. Her tastes, it seemed, changed during the trimesters (and, thankfully, so had her heartburn's intensity and frequency). This trimester, her last, held cravings and combinations that were at least _slightly_ justifiable. She still held a strong aversion to ham, onions, and cinnamon. "Mmm…" the explosion of turkey juice on her tongue, mixed with the colorful coating of condiments, was nearly _orgasmic_.

"You're a good baby. Mommy loves you, Sarah." Liberty rubbed gentle, large circles on her stomach as she continued to eat her craving masterpiece. Steve chuckled, biting into his own burger. Once the real food had been eaten, and everyone was thoroughly sated, the cake's candles were lit. The parents didn't want their children getting into the cake, cherry pie bites, and cupcakes until they'd had a decent meal. They sang happy birthday for the soldier, kids doing their best to follow along in gibberish as Lieutenant barked.

"Sarah's celebrating, too, daddy. She says 'Happy birthday!'" Liberty informed. She was treating her insides like they were a punching bag!

The group feasted on sweets until they were nearly exhausted from their stuffed states. The children were already bobbing their heads in effort to stay awake. Cori fanned the party's dwindling spark, causing another round of the water balloon fight to break out. "_That's_ for getting my husband!" crowed Cori as Tony brushed pieces of busted balloon from his shirt. He was quick to respond.

This time Clint joined the fight. He proved to be a worthy adversary, as expected. Liberty narrowly avoided several balloons as she crossed into the kitchen to get plastic wrap and plastic baggies to save the leftovers. Darting through the line of fire, she crossed again. The young woman yelped when a balloon pelted her in the thigh. "Sorry half-pint!" Tony called.

"Tony, you wet my dress!" Liberty couldn't help but pout. In her child-plump state few things fit as nicely and comfortably as her blue and silvery-white maternity dress. It was her favorite, and it was now wet.

"Um…" Tony blinked, looking at the ground. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did!" she insisted, stomping her foot. A gush of wetness coated her toes. Liberty looked down into fragments of bright orange. If that was Tony's water balloon, and he threw it (but it didn't break), and she was wet, that meant….

"Steve!" Liberty squeaked, unable to stop the excitement charging her heart.

The super soldier had gone _through_ the sliding glass door. Miraculously, he hit it hard enough to knock it off the track. Thankfully, the glass hadn't shattered. "STAY CALM!" she could hear Steve shouting, "STAY CALM!"

Bruce guided her to a lounge chair, talking about her breathing. Liberty couldn't focus on that, though! Sarah was coming! Her baby! She shook with excitement that dulled the pangs of pain brought on by her beginning contractions.

Juanta claimed her right side, leaving only the left for Steve when he re-emerged loaded down with bags. He dropped them all. Bruce had her in a birthing position. There was no way they were getting to a hospital before Sarah arrived. "It's okay," Steve assured, wondering if that was meant more for her, or for himself.

They both shivered with excitement.

"L-looks like you still h—_ah_!—have one more pr-present to o-open." Liberty tried to laugh. The stab of pain truncated it. Steve squeezed her hand, smiling all the same. It would be the best present he was ever given, he was sure.

"I guess so." he laughed nervously.

A few minutes passed. Five. Ten. Liberty couldn't be sure. "She's crowning." said Bruce, and that was all she knew.

It felt like Sarah was trying to _force_ her way out to honor Steve's birthday. _Well, I DID say she was celebrating_, thought Liberty humorously. She was certainly making Steve's birthday extra special and eventful! Coached by Bruce and Juanta, Liberty began systematically pushing her daughter out into the world. Time fell away as her mind became fuzzy with pain and effort.

Eventually, though, she heard a cry. It gripped Liberty's heart in a vice. It was undoubtedly the voice of a little angel, she thought. There could be nothing sweeter.

"Wow!" breathed Steve, "Look at all her hair! It's blonde!" he sniffed, blinking tears from his blue eyes. Bruce let Steve cut the cord with a knife Tony thoroughly sanitized and handed to him. The team doctor then did his best to clean the newborn up. Their celebratory vacation would have to be cut short so Sarah could be properly, legally evaluated, and Cori and Pepper started loading the kids up for transport. Clint and Natasha made sure the trash was collected and bagged.

Bruce handed Sarah delicately to Steve. Thor picked up toys while Stark loaded dishes into a JARVIS-run washer. Steve sat in a nearby chair, not trusting his legs. Bruce had wrapped her in a dry, unused towel. She was pink-faced, crying healthily, and so very, very tiny.

And so very, very precious.

Liberty found the strength to roll to her side. She grinned. Steve held Sarah like she was an irreplaceable, fragile doll. And she was, in a sense. _She's already got you wrapped around her finger_, Liberty smiled tiredly.

Steve truly was a gentle giant. He looked Thor-sized compared to his infant daughter. "Having a good time, daddy?" Liberty questioned exhaustedly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Best birthday ever." Steve managed to stutter.


End file.
